0 L LEG  E  leWS 


m 


COLLEGE  DAYS 


BY 


EGBERT  TOMES 


NEW     YORK 

HARPER  &   BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE 

1  880 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1880,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Preparing  for  College. — The  Grammar-school  of  Columbia 
College. — Rector  Ogilby. — Discharge. — New  Rector. — 
Dignity  and  Severity. — Pedantic  Jocularity. — Elephantine 
Banter. — Its  Victims.  — Anthon.  — Author. — Scholar. — 
Teacher.  —  His  Personal  Appearance  and  Manner.  — 

Me- and  the  Higher  Mathematics. — His  Successor. — 

A  Slashing  Teacher. — My  Destiny. — An  Episcopal  Strong- 
hold.— Examination  for  College Page  9 

.    CHAPTER   II. 

Travelling  to  Hartford. — First  Sight  of  College. — Admis- 
sion.—  A  Dungeon. — College  Precincts.  —  A  Scientific 
Irishman. — The  Neighborhood. — The  Boarding-houses. — 
The  Hog  River. — The  City. — The  Students. — Religiosi. 
— The  Independents. — The  Roysterers. — Old  Traditions. 
— Southern  Students. — The  Southern  Society. — Character 
of  Southern  Students 24 

CHAPTER   III. 

My  Class. — Standing. — Classmates. — Brilliant  Writers. — 
Bishop  Williams. — Archbishop  Bayley. — Hon.  John  Bige- 
lo\v. — Literary  Genius. — Libraries.— Book  Appropriation. 


4  CONTENTS. 

— Sham  Professor. — Miscellaneous  Talent. — A  Brief  Val- 
edictory  Tage  37 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Fuculty. — The  Sham  Professors. — The  Real  Teachers. 
— Sleepy  David.— Old  Caloric.— The  President. —  High 
Jinks. — A  Change.  —  The  New  President. — Holland. — 
Professor  Jim. — Habits  of  Exercise. — Vacations. — Chol- 
era in  New  York. — A  Speech  of  Henry  Clay. — Governor 
Ellsworth. — Isaac  Toucey. — Gideon  Welles. — Hunger- 
,ford,  the  Lawyer 30 

CHAPTER   V. 

Graduation. — An  old  Diploma. — Its  'Suggestions. — Choice 
of  Profession. — The  Bells  and  Mason  Good's  Works. — 
Enter  University  of  Pennsylvania. — Professor  Homer. — 
The  Mysteries  and  Horrors  of  Dissecting-room. — Dr.  Hare. 
— Chemical  Displays. — Surgery  at  Blocksley  Hospital. 
— Professor  Gibson. — Oilier  Professors. — Doctors  made 
Easy. — Passage  to  Liverpool.  —  A  Jolly  Voyage. — Dr. 
Hawks. — Arrival  in  Liverpool. — Departure  for  Edin- 
burgh  62 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Arrival  in  Edinburgh. — The  Summer  Session  at  the  Univer- 
sity.— My  First  Quarters. — A  Disorderly  Household. — 
Historical,  Romantic,  and  Personal  Associations. — The 
High  Street  of  Edinburgh. — The  Little  Chapel. — Alison 
on  "Taste." — Mackay  the  Actor.  —  Holyrood  Palace. — 
Arthur's  Seat  and  Salisbury  Crag. — Heriot's  Hospital. — 
The  Meadows. — The  Links  and  Golfers. — Convent. — The 
Site  of  the  College. —Murder  of  Darnley. — The  Univer- 
sity and  its  Associations 73 


CONTENTS.  5 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Contrasts. — Hume's  Monument. — Ambrose's. — Scott's  and 
Hume's  Houses. — Jeffrey  at  Home  and  at  Court. — Mur- 
chiston.  —  Hawthornden.  — Dr.  Chalmers.  — Guthrie. — A 
Visit  from  Dr.  Hawks. — His  Companion. — Sydney  Smith. 
— Surgeon's  Square.  —  Burke  and  Hare.  —  Dr.  Knox. — 
Allen  Thompson. — "Never  Touched  the  Ground." — Por- 
trait of  Knox. — De  Quincey  and  his  Daughter. — Macau- 
lay. — Dr.  Abercrombie Page  82 

CHAPTER  VII I. 

My  First  Invitation. — A  Jolly  Dinner. — Edinburgh  Conviv- 
iality.— A  Surprise. — Religious  Topics. — J.  Shank  More. 
— Edinburgh  Society. — A  Disputed  Child. — Mr.  Craig. — 
Bishop  Ravenscroft. — From  Slave-whip  to  Crosier. — A 
Change  of  Quarters. — Mr.  Ainslie. — A  Friend  of  Burns. — 
Clarinda. — A  Genial  Neighbor. — -Marriage  at  Three-score- 
and-ten. — A  Festival. — Campbell  the  Poet  in  the  Chair. — 
Genius  in  Eclipse. — Professor  Blackie  in  Youth  .  .  96 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Winter  Session. — Rush  of  Students. — The  Classes. — 
Students  from  Everywhere. — The  Full-blooded  Negro. — 

Social  Inversion. — Distinguished   Students. — W of 

Nottingham. — G of  Newcastle. — Charles  Maitland. — 

Faith  in  Chemistry. — Samuel  Brown. — Poet  and  Philoso- 
pher.— Unity  of  Matter. — Professor  Anderson  of  Glas- 
gow   110 

CHAPTER  X. 

A  Band  of  Revellers. — Making  a  Night  of  it. — The  Two 
Brothers  R . — Their  History. — A  Mother,  and  not  a 


6  CONTENTS. 

Mother.— A  Victim  to  Slavery. —The  Third  Brother's 

Fate. — Description  of  the  K 's.— The  Eldest  R . 

— A  Fancy  Bull. — The  End  of  the  Eldest. — The  Younger 

R in  Paris. — Incidents  of  his  Career. — Adventures 

in  England. — His  Return  to  the  United  States.— Disap- 
pearance    Page  123 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Brothers  F . — An  American  Claimant  for  a  Scotch 

Title. — A  Retired  and  Happy  Life. — Sudden  Aspirations. 
— Lord  Lovat. — Devotion  of  a  Clan. — A  Long  Suit  in  Ed- 
inburgh.— Luxury  and  the  Jews. — A  Day  of  Reckoning. 
— An  Adverse  Decision. — Family  Ruin. — The  Eldest  Son. 
— The  Survivors  of  a  Wreck. — Another  American  Claim- 
ant.— Precocious  Benevolence. — A  Triumph. — Final  Re- 
sult   134 

CHAPTER  XII. 

General  Disunion  of  Students. — A  Remarkable  Exception. 
— Political  Unanimity. — Prevalence  of  Toryism. — Influ- 
ence of  Tory  Professors. — Professor  Wilson's  Example 
and  Teachings. — Royal  Medical  Society. — Its  Traditions. 
— Sir  James  Mackintosh. — The  Brunonian  Controversy. 
— Speculative  Society. — Botanical  and  Geological  Tours. 
— Exercises. — New  Haven. — Huntsmen  and  Horsemen. — 
The  Theatre. — Church  Intolerance. — Studies  for  a  De- 
gree.— Examinations. — Defence  of  Thesis. — An  Exami- 
nation Passed. — The  Three  Munros  .  .  .  '.  .  144 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Munro  Tertius. — A  Nonchalant  Professor. — Catting  Cards. 
— A  Personal  Description. — Strange  Illustration  of  Filial 
Affection. — First  Sight  of  Pickwick. — A  Dignified  Pro- 


CONTENTS.  7 

fessor. — Hope. — Resplendent  Demonstrations. — Kemp. — 
Compression  of  Gases. — A  Great  Chemical  Feat. — Antic- 
ipation of  Modern  Discovery. — The  Eclipse  of  a  Man  of 
Genius Page  158 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Professor  Alison.— The  Good  Physician. — "Our  Doctor." 
— Robust  and  Gentle. — Sir  Robert  Christison. — Hard 
Worker. — Powers  of  Endurance. — Personal  Appearance. 
— Sir  William  Hamilton. — Author  of  "Cyril  Thornton." 
— Hundreds  of  Skulls. — A  Death-blow  to  Phrenology. — 
Professor  Wilson. — His  Works. — Personal  Appearance. 
— As  a  Lecturer. — The  Dogs.  —  How  a  Professor  was 
Appointed. — Pillans 169 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Close  of  Winter  Session. — Vacations.  —  To  Glasgow  by 
Canal. — A  Jolly  Archdeacon. — Glenarbuck. —  Blantyre 
House. — A  Noble  Fee. — A  Tragic  End. — A  Winter  Voy- 
age.—  Illness  at  Sea. — A  Gentle  Seafaring  Man.  —  The 
North  Atlantic  in  Winter. — A  Victim. — Hoisting  Sail. — 
Detection. — Arrival  in  New  York. — A  Mitigated  Wel- 
come   180 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

My  First  Visit  to  Washington. — Appearance  of  the  Capital. 
—The  Old  Gadsby's.— A  Visit  from  Ogden  Hoffman.— A 
Sight  of  Daniel  Webster. — The  Hon.  Edward  Stanley.— 
A  Call  upon  Van  Buren. — The  Joke  of  the  Treasury. — 
Jesuits'  College. — Wine  for  Boys. — Alexandria. — Horse- 
back Ride  to  Mount  Vernon. — A  Deserted  Home. — Re- 
turn to  Edinburgh.  —  An  Unfortunate  Petition. — First 
Medical  Examination  .  .  .  192 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

The  Last  Academic  Year. — Disability  of  Professors. — Sir 
Charles  Bell. — Supplementary  Teachers. — Disgraceful  In- 
efficiency.— Infirmary. — Heroic  Practice. — High-pressure. 
— Breaking  Down. — The  Last  Examination. — Dr.  (Sir 
James  Y.)  Simpson. — Dr.  Savvneyson's  Testimonials. — A 
Severe  Calling  to  Account. — Defence  of  Thesis. — Capping. 
—Exit Page  200 


CHAPTER  I. 

Preparing  for  College. — The  Grammar-school  of  Columbia 
College. — Hector  Ogilby. — Discharge. — New  Rector. — 
Dignity  and  Severity. — Pedantic  Jocularity. — Elephantine 
Banter. — Its  Victims.  — Anthon.  —  Author.  — Scholar. — 
Teacher.  —  His  Personal  Appearance  and  Manner.  — 

Me and  the  Higher  Mathematics. — His  Successor. — 

A  Slashing  Teacher. — My  Destiny. — An  Episcopal  Strong- 
hold.— Examination  for  College. 

As  the  Grammar-school  of  Columbia  College 
in  New  York  was  the  last  elementary  classical 
academy  of  which  I  was  a  pupil,  it  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  place  where  I  was  prepared  for 
college.  This  Grammar-school,  when  I  entered  it, 
was  in  Murray  Street,  New  York,  in  the  rear  of 
Columbia  College,  upon  a  part  of  the  grounds  of 
which  it,  a  plain,  square  brick  structure,  was  built. 
There  was  no  access,  however,  from  the  school 
to  the  park  of  the  college,  fox  fear,  perhaps,  that 
we  rude  boys  might  trample  down  its  greensward, 


10  MY^  COLLEGE    DAYS. 

and  commit  havoc  in  its  smooth  paths  and  trim 
shrubbery.  We,  therefore,  during  the  brief  in- 
termissions between  school-hours,  confined  our- 
selves within  the  contracted  court-yard,  or  over- 
flowed, in  our  races  and  rough-and-tumble  games 
of  "  tag  "  and  "  prisoner's  base,"  into  the  neigh- 
boring streets. 

John  D.  Ogilby  was  then  rector  of  the  school, 
which,  as  far  as  its  business  management  and 
financial  responsibility  were  concerned,  was  en- 
tirely under  the  control  of  the  trustees  of  Colum- 
bia College.  The  general  conduct  of  the  school, 
and  the  especial  teaching  of  the  head  or  "Rec- 
tor's class,"  fell  to  the  duty  of  Ogilby,  who  at 
the  time  could  not  have  been  older  than  eighteen 
or  nineteen  years  of  age.  He  had  been  transfer- 
red, I  think,  even  before  he  had  graduated,  from 
his  place  as  a  student  of  the  senior  class  to  the 
important  position  of  rector  of  the  school.  With 
a  precocious  dignity,  not  only  of  character  and 
manner  but  of  personal  appearance,  his  extreme 
youth  did  not  appear  in  any  way  an  obstacle  to 
his  management.  He  was  remarkably  tall  for 
his  age,  and  so  strenuously  erect  in  his  bearing 
that  his  back  bent  in  and  his  chest  curved  for- 
ward to  such  an  extent  that  he  actually  seemed 
crooked.  He  had  a  pair  of  piercing  black  eyes, 
and  the  most  serious  if  not  stern  expression  I 


COLUMBIA   COLLEGE    GRAMMAR-SCHOOL.        11 

have  ever  noticed  upon  so  young  a  face.  He 
was  evidently  earnest  to  enthusiasm  in  his  work, 
and  he  was  the  first  teacher  I  had  yet  encoun- 
tered for  whom  I  had  any  respect.  He  was  a 
rigid  disciplinarian,  and  no  sparer  of  the  rod ; 
and,  though  I  often  felt  its  smart,  I  bear  him  no 
grudge,  for  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  well-deserved. 
He  had  great  sympathy  with  any  mark  of  con- 
scientiousness he  might  discover  in  a  boy.  I 
recollect,  on  one  occasion,  on  his  leaving  the 
room,  a  tumult  arose  in  the  class.  On  return- 
ing, he  asked  each  one  of  a  number  of  suspected 
boys,  who  had  been  guilty  of  this  breach  of  dis- 
cipline? Every  one  denied  it  until  he  came  to 
me,  when  I  boldly  confessed  my  fault.  In  a  mo- 
ment of  angry  impulse  he  dismissed  me  from  the 
room,  and  ordered  me  to  take  a  place  in  a  lower 
class;  but  I  had  hardly  fulfilled  his  command 
when  he  hurried  to  me,  with  an  unusual  expres- 
sion of  kindness  in  his  face,  and  said,  in  his  gen- 
tlest tone  of  voice,  "  T ,  you  told  the  truth, 

and  therefore  I  forgive  you ;  return  to  your 
class."  He  then  searched  out  the  other  offend- 
ers who  had  deceived  him,  and,  upon  detection, 
punished  them  with  the  utmost  severity. 

I  had  been  so  wretchedly  schooled  before,  and 
though  I  had  nominally  gone  over  a  large  sur- 
face of  study,  had  penetrated  so  little  into  its 


12  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

depths,  that  I  felt  myself  to  be  very  deficient, 
and  found  it  impossible  to  take  a  very  high  po- 
sition in  my  class,  of  which  most  of  the  boys  had 
long  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  a  more  thorough 
drilling.  I,  however,  sustained  myself  with  tol- 
erable credit,  and  managed  to  make  such  prog- 
ress as  would  have  enabled  me  to  enter  college 
with  the  best  of  my  comrades,  in  the  autumn  of 
the  next  year.  It  was,  however,  thought  advis- 
able to  postpone  (as  I  was  very  young)  my  en- 
trance ;  and,  being  able  to  spare  the  time,  I  left 
the  school  and  travelled  in  Europe  for  several 
months. 

On  my  return,  after  my  absence,  I  resumed  my 
studies  at  the  Grammar-school  in  Murray  Street. 
As  the  class  of  which  I  had  been  a  member  for 
a  few  months  had  entered  college,  I  joined  that 
which  succeeded  it.  As  this  now  became  the 
rector's  class  in  turn,  I  was  again  under  the  im- 
mediate tuition  of  Mr.  Ogilby.  This  gentleman, 
however,  was  soon  discharged  from  his  office,  in 
consequence  of  some  innovations,  of  German  ori- 
gin, which  he  had  introduced  into  the  system  of 
education  at  the  school,  and  the  trustees  of  the 
antiquated  institution  in  our  rear  by  no  means 
approved  of. 

Charles  Anthon,  LL.D.,  professor  of  Greek  and 
Latin  in  Columbia  College,  succeeded  Mr.  Ogilby 


DR.  ANTHON.  13 

as  the  Rector  of  the  Grammar-school,  retaining, 
at  the  same  time,  his  former  position.  He  took 
great  care,  however,  not  to  derogate  from  his 
professorial  dignity,  by  delegating  all  the  less 
dignified  duties  of  the  school-master  to  his  hum- 
ble subordinates.  He  never  wielded  the  cane,  or 
deigned  even  so  much  as  to  box  a  boy's  ears,  but 
the  pains  and  penalties  vicariously  inflicted  were 
none  the  less  severe.  He  established  a  Draconian 
code — one  law  of  which,  I  recollect,  though  not 
from  personal  experience  of  the  penalty,  was  that 
the  last  four  boys  of  each  class  should  be  daily 
whipped. 

Dr.  Anthon  reserved  for  himself,  as  his  espe- 
cial duty,  the  teaching  of  Greek  and  Latin  to  the 
first,  or  Rector's  class,  and  exercised  a  general 
supervision  over  the  whole  school.  He  appointed 
all  the  teachers,  who,  mostly  young  men  taught 
and  disciplined  by  him  in  the  college,  were  very 
submissive  executors  of  his  arbitrary  will,  and 
showed,  especially  in  the  department  of  admin- 
istering punishment,  much  zeal.  The  work  of 
teaching  our  class  was  elementary  and  easy  for 
the  learned  professor,  who  seemed  to  regard  it 
rather  as  a  distraction  from  his  more  severe  pur- 
suits than  as  a  serious  labor  in  itself.  He  sport- 
ed with  it  as  if  it  were  a  toy,  and  performed  a 
variety  of  strange  antics  in  the  course  of  his 


14  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

playful  treatment  of  us.  His  humors  and  eccen- 
tricities were  of  a  heavy  and  pedantic  sort.  He 
insisted  upon  us  boys,  who  were  of  his,  the  Rec- 
tor's, class,  answering  the  roll-call  with  the  Greek 
word  //KW,  I  am  come — reminding  us  at  the  same 
time,  with  that  fulness  of  definition  characteris- 
tic of  him,  that  the  term  meant  not  only  "  I  am 
come,"  but  that  "  I  am  come,  and  I  remain ;"  in 
a  word,  that  "  I  am  here."  The  boys  belonging 
to  the  lower  classes  of  the  classical  department 
were  allowed  the  use  of  the  Latin  adsum,  while 
those  who  were  merely  studying  English  and  the 
modern  languages  were  restricted  to  the  simple 
vernacular, "  Here."  He  affected  a  ludicrous  re- 
spect for  the  dignity  of  his  especial  class,  and  I 
recollect  that  he  once  pretended  to  take  great  of- 
fence at  my  calling  the  foot  of  it  the  tail,  which 
he  declared  to  be  an  appellation  derogatory  to 
even  the  terminal  end  of  a  body  of  pupils  hon- 
ored by  the  charge  of  so  august  a  personage  as 
himself.  The  first  boy  in  the  class  he  dignified 
with  the  title  of  Imperator,s\n<\.  the  second  Dux; 
and  he  had  a  variety  of  other  marks  of  distinc- 
tion and  also  of  degradation  for  the  rest,  accord- 
ing to  their  position. 

Anthon  was  a  terribly  persistent  banterer  in 
his  own  peculiar,  elephantine  way.  One  poor  lad, 
who  had  made  a  bad  show  at  recitation,  being 


BANTER.  15 

asked  what  he  had  been  doing  at  home  instead 
of  learning  his  lesson,  conscientiously  answered 
that  he  had  been  reading  "Oliver  Twist,"  and 
was  ever  after  called,  by  the  professor,  Oliver 
Twist.*  "  Now,"  he  would  say, "  let  Oliver  Twist 
try  his  hand  ;"  "Wake  up,  Oliver  Twist ;"  "  That 
will  do, Oliver  Twist;"  and  so  on, until  the  poor 
lad  was  so  worried  by  this  bantering,  and  took 
it  so  much  to  heart,  that  his  health  and  cheer- 
fulness were  seriously  impaired,  and  his  parents 
were  obliged  to  remove  him  to  another  school. 
There  was  a  heavy  fellow  of  the  name  of  Do 
Witt,  who,  from  the  beginning,  had  precipitated 
by  the  mere  weight  of  dulness  to  the  bottom  of 
the  class,  and  remained  there  to  the  last.  He 
became  the  especial  object  of  the  professor's  ban- 
ter. He  had  remarkably  large,  bushy  eyebrows, 
and  he  was  constantly  reminded  that  this  had 
been  always  regarded  as  a  sign  of  intelligence 
until  now,  when  it  was  manifestly  proved  by  his 
case  to  be  quite  the  reverse.  He  was  also  ask- 
ed, again  and  again,  whether  the  famous  Dutch 
statesman, De  Witt,  was  an  ancestor  of  his;  while, 
at  the  same  time,  the  poor  youth  who  bore  the 
name  was  told  that  if  he  were,  he  was  a  dread- 
fully degenerate  descendant.  Our  class-fellow, 

*  This  was  some  lime  after  I  left  the  school. 


16  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

however,  was  of  sterner  stuff  than  poor  "  Oliver 
Twist,"  and  bore  all  this  banter  without  even  a 
sensible  twitch  of  his  copious  eyebrows,  and  re- 
mained immovable  in  his  destined  place  at  the 
foot  of  the  class. 

Anthon  was,  undoubtedly,  a  good  but  not  a 
great  and  liberal  scholar.  He  pursued  the  tra- 
ditional methods  of  studying  and  teaching  the 
Greek  and  Latin,  and  had  a  comprehensive  and 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  verbal  significations 
and  construction  of  those  languages.  He  was 
an  industrious  compiler  of  school  and  college 
text-books,  and  made  a  considerable  fortune  by 
his  publications,  which  obtained  a  wide  sale,  not 
exclusively  due  to  their  excellence  but  greatly 
owing  to  his  prominent  position  as  a  professor 
of  an  institution  which  at  that  time  ranked  high 
in  the  United  States,  and  gave  a  considerable 
prestige  to  any  educational  work  emanating  from 
it.  He  was  an  indefatigable  worker,  and  allowed 
nothing  to  interfere  with  his  habits  of  industry. 
He  was  hardly  ever  seen  out  of  the  precincts  of 
his  college,  and  checked  every  intrusion  upon  his 
retirement.  Over  the  mantel-piece  of  his  study 
he  had  inscribed,  in  large  letters,  "  SHORT  VISITS 
MAKE  LONG  FRIENDS."  His  productions  had  no 
claim  to  originality,  and  he  freely  appropriated 
to  his  own  use  the  researches  of  foreign  scholars, 


VERBAL   SCHOLARSHIP.  17 

especially  of  Germany,  with  an  unscrupulous  dis- 
regard, it  was  charged,  of  due  acknowledgment. 
He  greatly  prided  himself  upon  his  Horace,  which 
was  a  very  bulky  volume  principally  remarkable 
for  its  profuse  translations,  which  made  it  very 
acceptable  to  the  superficial  American  student. 
These  translations,  which  were  given  in  rather 
turgid  words  and  phrases,  he  seemed  to  regard 
with  much  self-satisfaction,  and  that  pupil  who 
repeated  them  with  the  most  verbal  exactness  in 
his  recitations  was  sure  of  the  highest  favor  and 
commendation.  He  would  frequently  translate 
to  the  class  their  lessons  in  Homer  or  other  clas- 
sical work  in  the  course  of  study,  and  insist  next 
day  at  the  recitation  upon  the  precise  English 
expressions  he  had  used ;  so  it  became  a  habit 
with  the  boys,  who  were  sufficiently  brisk  as 
scribes,  to  note  down  each  word  as  he  uttered  it. 
Anthon  was  undoubtedly  an  excellent  teacher 
of  his  kind,  and  he  was  the  first  one  I  ever  was 
under  who  succeeded  in  giving  me  an  interest 
in  classical  study.  He  made,  I  recollect,  even 
the  Greek  Testament  a  pleasure ;  and  I  can  recall 
some  of  his  comments  and  interpretations  which, 
though  new  to  me,  were  undoubtedly  familiar 
to  scholars.  They  revealed  to  me,  for  the  first 
time,  the  meaning  of  that  sacred  Volume,  and 
greatly  excited  my  interest  in  its  study.  His 
2 


18  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

derivations  of  Jesus  and  Christ  from  taojuat,  to 
heal,  and  XPIWJ  to  anoint,  and  baptism  from  /3aw, 
to  go — "go  down  into  the  water" — showing  ap- 
parently, as  he  used  to  say,  that  adult  baptism 
by  dipping  was  the  original  form,  struck  me,  in 
my  youthful  ignorance,  with  an  agreeble  surprise. 
His  statement  that,  whenever  our  Saviour  is  al- 
luded to  in  the  New  Testament,  tKftvog,  which  sig- 
nifies merely  he,  implying  delegated  power,  was 
never  used,  but  always  UVTOQ,  he  of  his  own  au- 
thority; and  his  inference  that  this  proved  the 
divinity  of  Christ,  was  also  new  to  me,  and  a  sat- 
isfactory confirmation  of  the  religious  belief  in 
which  I  had  been  brought  up.  I  remember  the 
fulness  which  the  professor  gave  to  his  transla- 
tions of  some  words  and  phrases,  and  how  he  in- 
sisted upon  our  repeating  them  in  every  detail ; 
for  example,  in  the  well-known  lines  of  Virgil, 
Facilis  descensus  Averno  sed  revocare  gradum, 
etc.,  he  would  render  the  Hie  labor,  hoc  opus 
est, "  this  is  the  labor ;  in  this  consists  the  diffi- 
culty" puffing  his  cheeks  and  blowing  out  the 
latter  phrase  with  all  the  force  his  breath  was 
capable  of.  The  Trpoiairtrtr,  at  the  beginning  of 
Homer,  was  a  word  upon  which  he  was  especial- 
ly fond  of  dwelling,  telling  us  how  Pope  had 
erroneously  translated  the  irpo  as  "  premature- 
ly," while  he  reminded  us  that  it  simply  meant 


PERPETUAL   MOTION.  19 

"down;"  "down,  down  to  hell!"  he  would  bel- 
low out  with  his  habitual  emphatic  burst. 

The  professor  was  a  portly  man,  with  a  large, 
square  Teutonic  head  and  shoulders  —  his  par- 
ents were  German — and  a  naturally  sturdy  body, 
though  his  flesh  seemed  unduly  soft  and  pallid 
from  want  of  exercise  and  close  confinement  to 
his  studies.  He,  however,  was  full  of  life  and 
activity,  and,  never  at  rest  himself,  kept  his  class 
in  a  perpetual  state  of  animation  and  movement. 
He  was  constantly  tossing  about  on  his  seat  in 
the  rostrum,  his  hands  in  motion  twirling  a  large 
silver  pencil-case,  which  he  held  loosely  between 
the  thumb  and  finger  of  the  left  hand  and  struck 
with  the  forefinger  of  the  right,  and  his  head 
ever  tui'ning  as  he  scanned  us  from  top  to  bot- 
tom, and  bottom  to  top,  while  he  never  ceased 
talking  and  shouting  to  the  boys  as  he  correct- 
ed their  translations  and  substituted  his  own,  or 
sent  down  a  question  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  the 
class,  crying  out  in  quick  succession,  Impera- 
torf  Duxf  Smith!  Jones!  Brown!  that's  it! 
up,  Robinson !  He  used  frequently  to  digress 
from  the  lesson  under  consideration,  and  test 
the  boys'  information  upon  some  subject  which 
bore  not  the  least  relation  to  it,  I  remember 
that  on  one  occasion  the  form  of  a  Maltese  cross 
was  asked,  and  the  question  passed  rapidly  down 


20  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

without  meeting  an  answer  until  near  the  bot- 
tom of  the  class,  when  a  fortunate  possessor  of 
the  knowledge  promptly  replied,  and  much  to 
his  surprise  was  suddenly  transferred  to  the  top, 
an  elevated  region  to  which  he  had  never  aspired. 

A  pompous,  assuming  young  Irishman  of  the 

name  of  Me was,  or  ought  to  have  been,  our 

teacher  of  arithmetic;  but  anything  so  elementa- 
ry was  quite  too  lowly  for  his  lofty  self-appre- 
ciation, and  he  persisted  in  lecturing  upon  the 
higher  mathematics  to  a  set  of  boys  who  hardly 
knew  the  multiplication  table,  and  did  not  under- 
stand a  word  of  his  abstruse  cogitations.  He 
was  soon  discharged  as  impracticable,  and  I  rec- 
ollect seeing  him  for  many  years  afterward  stalk- 
ing about  the  streets  of  New  York  in  a  shabby 
half-military  coat,  buttoned  close  to  the  chin  to 
hide,  apparently,  the  want  of  a  shirt. 

His  successor  was  an  Hibernian  like  himself; 
tall,  gaunt,  and  strong,  with  an  arm  as  long  as 
that  of  a  gorilla — an  animal  he  not  only  resem- 
bled in  appearance  but  ferocity.  He  was  down- 
right and  practical  enough,  and  never  lost  him- 
self in  the  vague  abstractions  of  Me .  He 

wielded  a  cane  of  his  own  length,  and  slashed 
with  it  right  and  left  all  along  the  benches  where 
we  poor  lads  sat  cowering  over  our  slates,  strik- 
ing indiscriminately,  regardless  whom  it  might 


AN    EPISCOPAL    STRONGHOLD.  21 

hit,  if  offender  or  not,  like  a  drunken  Irishman 
dealing  his  miscellaneous  blows  in  a  row. 

I  was  destined  for  Washington  College,  in 
Hartford,  an  institution  lately  established  by 
the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Brownell,  Bishop  of  Connecti- 
cut, in  the  interests  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church.  A  number  of  young  and  enthusiastic 
divines,  among  whom  Doane,  the  Bishop  of  New 
Jersey,  Potter,  Bishop  of  New  York,  and  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Hawks  were,  in  their  youth,  the  most 
prominent,  had  leagued  together  to  wage  a  cru- 
sade against  the  predominating  influence  of  Pres- 
byterianism  in  New  England.  They  according- 
ly rallied  around  the  bishop  in  his  collegiate 
stronghold,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  Puritanical 
enemy,  as  a  favorable  point  whence  to  carry  on 
their  war  in  behalf  of  prelacy.  They  were  all 
enrolled  either  as  actual  or  nominal  officers,  but 
most  of  them,  taking  no  part  in  the  internal  man- 
agement of  the  establishment,  exercised  their  ef- 
forts in  doing  their  best  to  strengthen  it  from 
without.  These  dispersing,  went  about  the  whole 
United  States  like  so  many  begging  friars,  though 
by  no  means  reduced  to  scrip  and  wallet,  for  they 
found  a  ready  welcome  at  some  of  the  most 
sumptuous  tables  and  luxurious  houses  of  the 
country,  stirring  up  the  faithful  of  the  Episcopal 
Church,  and  soliciting  alms  for  the  holy  cause. 


22  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

They  obtained  a  good  deal  of  money,  but  might 
have  obtained  a  good  deal  more  had  they  not 
been  distracted  from  their  rather  Quixotic  enter- 
prise by  the  inducements  of  the  practical  advan- 
tages to  themselves  and  to  their  Church  of  a  per- 
manent settlement,  in  the  opulent  and  extensive 
spheres  of  parochial  duty,  in  the  large  cities.  The 
Bishop  of  Connecticut,  accordingly,  was  soon  left 
to  shift  alone  as  best  he  could  in  his  isolated  de- 
fence, which  was  reduced  to  such  a  state  of  weak- 
ness as  to  be  hardly  capable  of  supporting  itself, 
much  less  of  destroying  the  enemy. 

My  father's  benevolence  was  among  the  first 
evoked  by  the  earnest  appeals  of  the  clerical  beg- 
gars, and  he  contributed  a  certain  sum  of  money 
(I  do  not  know  the  amount),  which  carried  with 
it  the  privilege  of  the  presentation  of  a  student. 
Thus  paid  for,  as  it  were,  in  advance,  I  was  des- 
tined to  become  a  member  of  the  college  in  Hart- 
ford. In  the  mean  time,  I  remained  a  pupil  of 
the  Grammar-school,  and  when  the  time  came 
for  our  (the  Rector's)  class  to  pass  the  examina- 
tion for  admission  into  Columbia  College,  I,  feel- 
ing, like  a  brave  soldier  on  the  eve  of  war,  that  it 
would  not  be  honorable  to  desert  my  comrades, 
underwent  the  terrible  ordeal  with  the  rest.  We 
were  examined  together  in  a  body,  and  the  pro- 
ceeding was  very  much  like  that  of  an  ordinary 


SLIDING   INTO   COLLEGE.  23 

recitation,  though,  of  course,  there  was  no  set  les- 
son for  the  occasion.  We  passed  up  and  down, 
according  to  our  answers,  as  usual,  and  I  found 
myself  at  the  close  of  the  examination  in  the  sat- 
isfactory position  of  No.  2  in  Greek,  and  No.  3 
in  Latin,  in  a  class  of  between  thirty  and  forty. 
A  lazy  fellow  chuckled  with  delight  when  he 
heard  of  the  way  in  which  the  class  was  to  be 
examined,  and  said  that  to  enter  college  would 
be  like  sliding  down  an  inclined  and  well-slush- 
ed board,  placed  between  the  school -house  and 
college  buildings,  which  were  contiguous.  His 
bright  anticipations,  however,  were  for  a  moment 
clouded  when  a  wag  suggested  that  there  might 
be  a  nail  in  the  board  to  catch  him  in  the  de- 
scent. The  examination  in  a  body  was,  no  doubt, 
much  easier  for  the  dull  and  backward  boys  than 
if  each  had  been  forced  to  submit  to  an  individ- 
ual test  of  his  fitness ;  so  that  the  lazy  fellow,  who 
slipped  into  college  with  the  tail  of  the  class, 
without  being  asked  a  single  question,  was  fully 
justified  in  his  droll  comparison. 


24  MY    COLLEGE   DAYS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Travelling  to  Hartford.  —  First  Sight  of  College.  —  Admis- 
sion. —  A  Dungeon.  —  College  Precincts.  —  A  Scientific 
Irishman.  —  The  Neighborhood.  —  The  Boarding-houses.  — 
The  Hog  River.  —  The  City.  —  The  Students.  —  Religiosi. 
—The  Independents.  —  The  Roysterers.  —  Old  Traditions. 
—  Southern  Students.  —  The  Southern  Society  —  Character 
of  Southern  Students. 


alone  to  Hartford,  in  the  suburbs  of 
which  Washington  College  was  situated.  I  had 
begged  hard  to  have  a  companion,  but  was  stern- 
ly refused,  not  from  any  want  of  tenderness,  but 
because,  doubtless,  as  I  was  no  longer  a  school- 
boy, and  had  reached  the  mature  age  of  fourteen 
years,  it  was  thought  desirable  that  I  should  be 
thrown,  as  it  were,  on  my  own  responsibility,  with 
the  view  of  giving  me  a  practical  lesson  in  self- 
reliance.  In  those  days  there  were  no  railways  ; 
and  the  only  means  of  travel  from  New  York  to 
Hartford  were  by  the  steamboat  and  mail-coach, 
or  "  stage."  As  it  was  in  the  fine  season  of  the 
autumn  or  fall  when  I  set  out,  I  took  my  depart- 
ure in  the  steamboat.  Sailing  through  Long  Isl- 
and Sound  and  tip  the  Connecticut  River,  we 


FIRST   SIGHT   OF   COLLEGE.  25 

landed  at  the  wooden  pier  of  the  little  capital 
city,  where  we  were  greeted  on  our  arrival  by  a 
large  concourse  of  curious  people  and  noisy  boys ; 
for  in  those  days  the  coming  in  of  the  boat  from 
New  York,  two  or  three  times  a  week,  was  an 
event  which  awakened  the  interest  of  the  whole 
population. 

The  first  sight  of  the  college  buildings,  built  of 
rough-hewn  stone,  was  by  no  means  cheerful,  and 
the  attempt  which  had  been  made,  by  the  addi- 
tion of  tall  columns  of  wood  to  the  front  of  the 
chapel,  and  a  great  impending  architrave  of  the 
same  material  to  the  roof  of  the  main  structure, 
all  painted  of  a  staring  white  color,  to  give  an 
academic  look  to  the  whole,  only  gave  it  a  more 
severe  appearance,  and  increased  the  sad  aspect 
of  my  future  residence. 

The  examination  for  admission  to  college,  which 
had  been  formidable  enough  in  anticipation,  but 
by  no  means  so  in  reality,  being  over,  I  was  duly 
matriculated,  and  a  room  assigned  to  me.  This, 
as  I  was  a  freshman  only,  was  on  the  ground- 
floor,  the  higher  rooms,  which  were  regarded  as 
better,  having  been  already  appropriated  by  the 
students  of  the  upper  classes.  As  I  passed 
through  the  low  portal,  with  its  rough  battered 
posts  and  doors,  into  the  hall  on  which  my  room 
opened,  every  footfall  sounding  loud  and  dismal- 


26  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

ly — for  sill,  steps,  and  passage-way  were  all  of 
stone — I  could  not  help  feeling  as  if  I  were  being 
immured  as  a  prisoner  within  the  heavy  walls  of 
the  ugly  structure.  As  I  turned  the  key,  grating 
harshly  in  the  rusty,  unused  lock,  and  the  door 
opened,  a  draft  of  damp,  mouldy  air  blew  in  ray 
face,  and  such  an  aspect  of  solitary  blankness  was 
presented  by  the  rudely  planked  floor,  and  the 
stained  and  broken  plaster  of  the  ceiling  and 
walls  of  the  long  empty  and  neglected  room, 
that  it  required  no  great  stretch  of  the  fancy  to 
suppose  that  I  had  reached  the  dungeon  in  which 
I  was  to  be  confined.  I  was  to  be  in  solitary 
confinement  too,  for  I  did  not  know  a  single  soul 
in  the  college,  and  had  at  that  time  no  room- 
mate.* Repairing  at  once  to  the  convenient  shop 
near  by,  the  proprietor  of  which  was  ever  ready 
to  provide  anything  that  might  be  wanted  by 
the  student,  from  a  bookcase  to  an  oyster-stew, 
I  purchased  a  set  of  old  furniture,  which  had 
served  I  don't  know  how  many  generations  of 
students  before  me.  This  consisted  of  a  bed- 
stead, or  rather  bunk,  a  table,  a  couple  of  chairs, 
and  some  shelves,  all  shining  and  sticky  with 
fresh  varnish.  So  I  installed  myself,  before  the 
day  was  over,  in  my  room,  thus  made  habitable, 
if  not  very  genial  or  comfortable.  My  first  even- 
ing was  lonesome,  and  I  longed  for  home,  but 


THE    COLLEGE    SURROUNDINGS.  27 

soon  became  reconciled,  and  bore  up  manfully 
enough,  for  there  was  no  alternative  but  submis- 
sion to  my  fate. 

The  immediate  grounds  about  the  college  were 
extensive  and  of  picturesque  capability,  but  very 
much  neglected ;  and  the  scattered  gravel  of  the 
walk,  irregularly  laid  and  rough  with  fragments 
of  stone  and  large  pebbles,  and  the  great  field  of 
coarse,  uncut  grass  and  tall  weeds  trodden  down 
in  every  direction  by  the  chance  steps  of  those 
coming  and  going,  and  the  whole  space  bare  of 
all  trees  or  the  least  growth  of  shrubbery,  in- 
creased the  sombre  and  uninviting  aspect  in  front 
of  the  rude  academic  buildings.  In  the  rear 
there  was  the  remnant  of  a  garden,  originally 
destined  for  botanical  instruction,  and  a  shattered 
conservatory,  in  the  charge  of  an  ignorant  Irish- 
man, but  who,  in  virtue  of  his  collegiate  appoint- 
ment, felt  himself  bound  to  make  pretensions  to 
some  scientific  knowledge.  It  used  to  be  an 
amusement  to  us  youths  to  ask  him  the  name  of 
a  rare  plant,  in  order  to  elicit  his  only  and  unfail- 
ing answer:  "Cactus  grandiflorus,  from  Sene- 
gal, or  some  other  part  of  South  America,"  which 
he  would  utter  with  the  most  pompous  self-as- 
surance, and  in  the  broadest  Tipperary  brogue. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  the  college  premises 
there  were  some  scattered  houses  of  plank  and 


28  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

shingle,  painted  white,  most  of  which  were  mere 
cottages,  although  there  were  a  few  more  preten- 
tious residences,  in  one  of  which  Bishop  Brown- 
ell,  the  president  of  the  college,  lived.  The  small- 
er tenements  were  generally  occupied  by  humble 
people,  some  of  whom  were  poor  widows,  licensed 
by  the  authorities  to  board  the  students,  for  whom 
no  meals  were  provided  within  the  college.  For 
one  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents  a  week,  the  high- 
est price  charged,  these  hungry  youths  were  sup- 
plied daily  with  three  substantial  meals,  at  every 
one  of  which  there  was  a  satisfactory  allowance 
of  meat,  while  in  addition  there  never  was  want- 
ing a  plenitude  of  mush  and  milk,  buckwheat, 
Indian  cakes  and  slap-jacks,  apple,  pumpkin,  and 
mince  pies,  codfish  balls,  and  all  the  other  delec- 
table contrivances  of  the  ingenious  culinary  art 
of  New  England. 

The  college  was  situated  in  a  beautiful  part  of 
the  country  near  the  banks  of  the  "  Little  River," 
as  I  believe  it  is  termed  in  respectful  geographi- 
cal language,  but  which  we  students  and  the  in- 
habitants generally  called  "  The  Hog,"  an  appel- 
lation strangely  at  variance  with  the  lofty  aspi- 
rations of  an  academic  resort.  Whatever  may 
be  its  name,  it  was  at  that  time  a  very  pretty, 
clear  stream,  winding  along  through  banks  alter- 
nately of  smooth  pasture-land,  knolls  tufted  with 


OLD    HARTFORD.  29 

wild  growth,  and  forest  woods.  I  became,  with 
a  college  comrade,  joint  owner  of  a  small  skiff, 
and  we  often  navigated  together  the  "Little  Riv- 
er," which  in  the  course  of  time  we  thoroughly 
explored.  In  the  summer  we  bathed  in  it,  and  in 
the  winter  skated  on  it,  and  it  seems  to  me  that 
without  this  stream  my  college  life  would  have 
been  dull  and  stagnant  enough.  On  a  bank  of 
this  river,  near  the  city  across  which  it  flows  in 
its  course  to  the  Connecticut,  where  it  empties, 
Mrs.  Sigourney,  who  at  that  time  was  regarded 
as  a  great  literary  personage,  conferring  much 
distinction  upon  the  place  she  had  honored  with 
her  abode,  lived,  in  a  pretty  house  almost  hid  from 
view  in  a  thick  grove  of  hickory  and  chestnut 
trees.  Over  "  The  Hog,"  where  it  traverses  the 
centre  of  Hartford,  there  was  a  curious  old  wood- 
en bridge,  with  shops  or  booths  built  close  to- 
gether on  each  side  of  it ;  so  it  looked  like  the 
fragment  of  an  ordinary  street. 

Hartford  in  those  days  was  very  different,  no 
doubt,  from  what  it  is  now,  but  I  have  never  had 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  it  in  its  modern  aspect. 
It  was  then  one  of  the  most  picturesque  little' cit- 
ies I  had  ever  seen,  with  much  that  was  rural  in 
its  appearance,  though  some  of  its  structures  were 
not  wanting  in  indications  of  the  opulence  and 
dignity  becoming  a  capital  of  the  State.  It  re- 


30  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

tained  so  much  regard  for  its  traditional  Puri- 
tanism as  to  begin  the  Sabbath,  according  to  the 
Jewish  model,  on  the  Saturday  evening — when 
the  shops  were  all  closed,  and  every  amusement  as 
well  as  business  suddenly  ceased — and  end  it  on 
the  Sunday  at  sundown,  when  each  one  resumed 
his  ordinary  daily  pursuits.  There  was,  more- 
over, no  theatre,  and  the  repeated  demands  made 
for  the  establishment  of  one  were  severely  re- 
fused by  the  public  authorities,  and  strenuously 
opposed  by  the  general  sentiment  of  the  inhab- 
itants. 

I  found  my  new  comrades  very  different  from 
those  I  had  just  left  at  the  Grammar-school.  All 
of  them  were  much  older ;  not  only  the  members 
of  the  higher  classes,  as  was  to  be  naturally  ex- 
pected, but  those  that  were  in  the  same  class  as 
myself.  Many  of  them  were  full-grown  men,  who 
had  already  been  engaged  in  various  trades  and 
pursuits  of  life,  as  is  not  uncommon  in  the  New 
England  colleges.  This  was  especially  the  case 
with  those  students  who  were  "  preparing,"  as  it 
was  said,  "  for  the  ministry  " — young  men  who, 
rather  late  in  life,  having  taken  a  serious  turn, 
had  abandoned  their  original  vocations  to  begin 
a  collegiate  course  preliminary  to  studying  the- 
ology, and  becoming  clergymen  of  the  Episcopal 
Church. 


MY    COLLEGE    COMRADES.  31 

Many  of  these  youths,  who  were  poor,  were 
from  country  towns  and  villages  and  the  coun- 
try itself,  and  were  humbly  if  not  shabbily  clad, 
rustic  in  appearance,  and  uncouth  in  manners. 
We  called  these  incipient  divines  the  religiosi, 
and  felt  for  them  a  barely  concealed  contempt, 
giving  them  no  credit  for  their  pious  professions, 
and  uncharitably  charging  them  with  being  actu- 
ated by  interested  motives  in  changing  their  vo- 
cations. We  used  to  say  that  they  had  left  their 
previous  pursuits  because  they  wanted  the  capac- 
ity successfully  to  follow  them.  Of  one  who  was 
known  to  have  been  a  shoemaker,  it  was  said, 
that  having  tried  in  vain  to  make  two  shoes 
alike,  he  had  cast  aside  the  awl  and  the  last  in 
despair,  and,  assuming  a  convenient  conversion, 
had  thrown  himself  upon  the  charity  of  the  col- 
lege, and  been  made  a  recipient  of  one  of  the  nu- 
merous scholarships  with  which  it  was  endowed 
for  those  intending  to  become  clergymen.  There 
were  doubtless  some  truly  sincere  converts  among 
these  transformed  mechanics  and  tradesmen,  but 
there  were  many  who  gave  little  indication  of 
having  abandoned  the  worldliness  of  their  pre- 
vious lives,  while  most  had  retained  such  habits 
and  manners  from  their  past  associations  as  made 
their  companionship  hardly  acceptable  to  the  well- 
bred  and  refined. 


32  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

The  habits  and  dress  of  these  students  were  as 
distinctive  as  their  bearing  and  manners.  They 
used  to  lounge  in  their  rooms,  or  even  attend 
chapel  and  the  lectures,  and  go  about  the  col- 
lege grounds  and  neighborhood  in  a  negligence 
of  person  and  attire  that  greatly  shocked  me  at 
first  sight.  Their  habitual  dress  was  a  long, 
loose,  and  almost  shapeless  gown  of  thin  printed 
calico,  such  as  is  seldom  seen  outside  of  a  sick- 
room, hanging  in  scant  folds  from  their  stooping 
shoulders  down  to  the  heels  of  their  slipshod 
feet.  This  they  wore  on  almost  every  occasion. 
They  went  to  prayers  in  it,  morning  and  evening, 
to  recitation,  and  their  daily  meals.  Their  hab- 
its were  very  sedentary  —  acquired  probably  in 
the  course  of  their  former  vocations  at  the  tailor's 
board,  the  cobbler's,  the  joiner's  bench,  and  be- 
hind the  counter  of  the  shopman.  They  seldom 
left  (except  in  case  of  urgent  necessity)  their 
rooms,  in  which  they  passed  hour  after  hour,  ly- 
ing at  full  length  upon  their  beds  or  vibrating  to 
and  fro,  with  their  bodies  crouching  in  a  cheap 
New  England  rocking-chair.  None  of  them,  as 
far  as  I  can  recollect,  though  they  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  maturity  and  experience,  and  the  pro- 
fessed motive  of  a  high  aim  in  life,  ever  excelled 
in  collegiate  study,  or  reached  in  after  years  dis- 
tinction in  the  Church. 


THE    COLLEGE    ROISTERERS.  33 

Besides  the  "  charity  "  students  there  were  sev- 
eral young  men  who,  like  them,  were  advanced 
in  years  and  preparing  for  the  ministry,  but  who 
differed  in  the  important  particular  of  being  self- 
supporting.  For  this  purpose  they  were  permit- 
ted to  absent  themselves  from  the  college  during 
the  whole  winter  session,  when  they  taught  in 
the  district  schools  of  the  State.  Thus,  with  the 
salaries  received,  they  were  enabled  to  meet  the 
expenses  of  their  support,  and  of  such  portions 
of  the  collegiate  course  as  they  were  enabled 
to  avail  themselves  of.  These  young  men  were 
.of  more  independent  and  elevated  character  than 
the  beneficiaries,  and  not  only  took  a  better  stand 
in  their  classes  but  were  held  in  higher  general 
esteem. 

The  college  not  being  in  a  very  prosperous 
state,  there  were  not  more  than  sixty  or  seventy 
students  in  all,  among  whom  there  was  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  sons  of  thriving  parents  from 
the  various  large  cities  and  other  flourishing 
communities  to  give  a  certain  air  of  external  re- 
spectability, at  least,  to  the  institution.  These, 
however,  if  they  had  more  seeming  polish  than 
their  rustic  fellow -students,  were  by  no  means 
so  subdued  and  decorous  in  their  behavior.  To 
them,  as  they  had  given  no  pledges  in  a  profess- 
ed conversion  and  devotedness  to  religion,  and 
3 


34  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

consequently  were  more  free  to  act  in  accord- 
ance with  juvenile  tendencies,  naturally  fell  the 
part  of  sustaining  the  traditional  reputation  of 
the  roistering  student.  These,  few  as  they  were 
in  number,  were  quite  equal  to  the  occasion,  and 
the  college  scrape  flourished  as  vigorously  in  the 
young  and  puny  Washington  College  as  among 
its  older  and  sturdier  contemporaries.  Hazing 
and  smoking  of  freshmen,  blocking  up  chapel 
doors  and  breaking  locks,  infecting  recitation- 
rooms  and  rendering  them  uninhabitable,  bar- 
ring out  president  and  professors,  transferring 
tin  signs  and  sign -boards  from  town  shops  to 
college  walls,  and  other  ancient  observances  were 
duly  honored.  The  roisterers  quorum  pars  inay- 
na  fui,  as  I  am  bound  to  confess  in  this  frank 
revelation  of  myself,  were  a  small  but  very  effec- 
tive band,  and,  while  we  were  doing  no  good  to 
ourselves,  did  much  mischief  and  gave  great  tor- 
ment to  others. 

There  was  a  fair  proportion  of  Southern  stu- 
dents, to  whose  companionship  I  had  been  espe- 
cially commended,  being  told  that  I  should  find 
them  to  be  the  most  gentlemanly  and  desirable 
associates.  I,  accordingly,  joined  their  society, 
which  was  known  as  the  Phi  Ueta,  or  Heta  Phi; 
but  what  these  characters  were  intended  to  sig- 
nify I  do  not  remember.  It  was  already  in  a 


THE  SOUTHERN  STUDENTS.         35 

state  of  incipient  dissolution  when  I  entered,  and 
although  a  great  effort  was  made  by  us  to  revive 
it,  by  incurring  a  large  expense  for  the  decora- 
tion of  the  room  in  which  we  met,  and  the  print- 
ing of  a  vast  number  of  circulars,  which  we  sent 
to  all  the  old  members  throughout  the  Southern 
States,  inviting  them  to  pay  our  bills — an  invita- 
tion they  naturally  cared  not  to  avail  themselves 
of — we  failed  to  avert  the  catastrophe.  The  soci- 
ety dissolved ;  and  as  we  were  responsible  for  its 
debts,  and,  as  I  hope  and  believe,  paid  them,  we 
divided  the  somewhat  extensive  library  among 
us  by  way  of  compensation.  I  have  some  of  the 
books  to  this  day ;  among  them  a  Philadelphia 
edition  of  "Lingard's  History  of  England,"  with 
the  Greek  symbols  of  the  old  Phi  Beta  society 
scrawled  on  the  fly-leaf  of  each  volume.  I  must 
say  that  the  dictum  of  those  who  commended 
the  companionship  of  the  Southern  students  to 
me  was  open  to  question ;  for,  though  they  had 
many  qualities  which  some  might  pronounce 
"  gentlemanly,"  they  hardly  possessed  any  which 
could  be  regarded  as  very  "desirable."  They 
were  the  idlest  fellows  in  the  whole  college — self- 
indulgent,  profuse  in  expenditure,  always  ready 
to  incur  and  seldom  scrupulous  in,  paying  debts, 
habitually  dirty  in  person,  and  negligent  in  the 
care  of  their  clothes,  though  occasionally  expen-: 


36  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

sively  and  showily  dressed.  They  resembled  in 
this  respect  the  negroes,  among  whom  the  great- 
est part  of  their  lives  had  been  spent,  and  whose 
habits  they  had  acquired ;  who,  after  grovelling 
six  days  of  the  week  in  filth  and  rags,  spend  all 
their  money  in  purchasing  bright-colored  clothes 
and  ribbons  to  decorate  themselves  on  Sundays 
and  holidays.  The  rooms  of  these  Southern  stu- 
dents were  generally  in  such  a  plight  that  few  of 
ordinary  nasal  sensibility  could  venture  to  enter 
them,  and  a  view  of  the  ragged  and  dirty  shirts 
they  generally  wore  would  throw  any  establish- 
ment of  laundresses  and  sewing-women  into  de- 
spair. They  were  the  least  orderly,  obedient,  and 
industrious  of  all  the  students;  but, though  they 
did  no  good  at  college,  some  of  them  became  af- 
terward of  prominence  in  their  own  States,  and 
members  of  Congress. 


MY    CLASS.  37 


CHAPTER  III. 

My  Class.  —  Standing. — Classmates. — Brilliant  Writers. — 
Bishop  Williams. — Archbishop  Bayley. — Hon.  John  Bige- 
low. — Literary  Genius. — Libraries.— Book  Appropriation. 
— Sham  Professor. — Miscellaneous  Talent. — A  Brief  Val- 
edictory. 

THERE  were  only  seventeen  students  in  the 
freshman  class  when  I  entered,  and  these  dwin- 
dled down,  during  the  four  years  of  the  collegi- 
ate course,  to  the  small  number  of  ten.  They  all 
towered  high  above  me,  for  not  one  of  them  was 
a  boy,  and  several  were  full-grown  men.  I  was 
not  only  much  younger  than  the  rest,  but  appear- 
ed, from  the  smallness  of  my  size,  of  less  age  than 
I  was.  From  the  very  first  recitation  I  proved 
a  superiority  to  all  my  fellows,  which  I  bore 
easily  to  the  end  of  the  collegiate  course,  being 
acknowledged,  without  dispute,  the  head  of  my 
class.  I  attribute  this  pre-eminence  not  to  any 
remarkable  natural  talents  possessed  by  me,  or  to 
severe  application  to  my  studies,  but  simply  to 
the  better  discipline  to  which  I  had  been  subject- 
ed, especially  during  the  last  year  at  the  Gram- 


38  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

mar -school,  under  that  most  excellent  teacher, 
Dr.  Anthon.  My  comrades  were  mostly  from 
country  schools,  where,  evidently,  they  had  re- 
ceived but  scant  and  imperfect  instruction.  They 
had  never  been  well  grounded  in  the  elements — a 
deficiency  in  their  education,  now  that  they  were 
in  college,  it  seemed  too  late  to  supply,  for  it  was 
presumed  they  knew  what  they  most  required  to 
be  taught.  They  were  called  upon  to  construe 
Homer  and  Horace,  while  they  were  hardly  fa- 
miliar enough  with  their  Greek  and  Latin  gram- 

o  o 

mars  to  conjugate  TVKTU  and  amo.  My  advanced 
and  thorough  knowledge  of  these  elements  gave 
me  a  speed  and  bottom  which  enabled  me  to 
take  the  lead  easily  from  the  first,  and  to  keep  it 
to  the  last.  It  might,  however,  seem  somewhat 
surprising  that  I  was  also  enabled  to  surpass,  as 
was  the  fact,  my  comrades  in  the  various  oth- 
er studies,  in  all  of  which,  with  the  exception 
of  English  composition  and  declamation,  I  was 
generally  the  best.  It  was  owing  to  the  circum- 
stance that  the  older  members  of  the  class,  some 
of  whom  had  already  been  engaged  in  the  ac- 
tive duties  of  life  before  beginning  the  collegiate 
course,  were  not  only  naturally  backward  in  ele- 
mentary knowledge,  but  very  slow  in  developing 
their  faculties  and  applying  them  to  new  and  ad- 
vanced studies. 


A   BISHOP   IN   EMBRYO.  39 

All  my  classmates  appeared  to  me  to  be  in- 
finitely my  superiors  in  English  composition. 
While  they  wrote  whole  essays,  page  after  page, 
I  could  only  succeed  with  very  hard  work  in 
coupling  together  two  or  three  barely  consecu- 
tive sentences,  puerile  in  thought  and  simple  in 
expression.  I  listened  with  wonder,  and  not  a 
little  envy,  to  their  long  effusions  swelling  with 
full  phrases,  and  sparkling  with  impossible  tropes. 
I  thought  there  was  a  scope  of  thought,  an  ex- 
panse of  style,  and  a  flight  of  the  imagination 
in  those  wondrous  productions  to  which  it  was 
hopeless  to  aspire.  I  was  a  poor  writer,  but  prob- 
ably a  worse  critic,  and  was  admiring,  doubtless, 
in  the  compositions  of  my  envied  comrades,  a 
diffuseness  of  treatment  and  a  turgidity  of  ex- 
pression which  were  by  no  means  preferable  to 
my  own  costive  efforts. 

Though  none  of  the  members  of  my  class  gave 
any  indication,  while  in  college,  of  possessing  re- 
markable talents,  three  of  them,  at  least,  have 
arisen  to  very  prominent  positions  in  the  world. 
One  has  been  a  minister  plenipotentiary  to  France ; 
another  was  Archbishop  of  Baltimore;  and  a  third 
is  Bishop  of  Connecticut.  The  last,  my  old  com- 
rade John  Williams,  now  the  Right  Rev.  Dr. 
Williams,  was  the  only  one  of  the  three  for  whom 
the  possibility  of  such  an  elevation  as  he  has 


40  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

reached  could  have  been  predicted  with  any  show 
of  reason.  He,  although  his  parents  were  Uni- 
tarians of  Deerfield,  Massachusetts,  had,  while  a 
student  at  Harvard — for  he  did  not  enter  our 
class  until  the  second  (sophomore)  year — imbibed 
a  strong  preference  for  the  Episcopal  Church, 
and  determined  to  take  orders  in  it.  He,  accord- 
ingly, after  much  resistance  on  the  part  of  his 
father  and  New  England  friends,  abandoned  the 
college  at  Cambridge  for  the  more  orthodox  in- 
stitution, as  he  regarded  it,  of  Hartford.  He  was 
only  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age  when  I 
first  knew  him;  and  yet,  with  his  tall,  stiff  figure, 
his  long  serious  face  and  high  composed  brow, 
his  mild  blue  eyes,  the  natural  fire  of  which,  if 
they  had  any,  was  subdued  by  the  spectacles  he 
always  wore,  his  sobriety  of  demeanor  and  meas- 
ured talk,  the  old-fashioned  cut  of  his  black  coat, 
and  his  gaitered  shoes,  he  had  already  the  look 
and  manner  of  a  settled  parish  clergyman.  We 
always  called  him  "  Parson  Williams."  He  ap- 
peared much  older  than  his  age,  and  his  conduct 
was  not  only  in  harmony  with  his  apparent  ma- 
turity of  years  but  with  his  ardent  profession  of 
piety.  He  was  a  great  admirer  in  those  days  of 
the  arbitrary  High-Churchman  Laud  ;  but  I  never 
heard  that  the  New  England  diocese  of  Connecti- 
cut which  he  administers  has  ever  had  occasion 


AN    ARCHBISHOP    TO  BE.  41 

to  complain  of  any  undue  prelatical  pretensions 
on  his  part. 

James  Roosevelt  Bayley  an  archbishop !  I 
should  sooner  have  thought  of  old  James,  the 
negro  janitor  of  the  college,  who  pretended  to 
make  our  beds  and  sweep  our  rooms,  becoming 
President  of  the  United  States  !  Bayley  was  no 
student,  and,  in  fact,  seemed  to  think  of  nothing 
but  the  care,  inside  and  out,  of  his  own  lusty, 
handsome  person,  and  of  the  cigar  he  was  per- 
petually puffing.  He  had  a  broad  and  ruddy 
face,  and  was  always  of  a  jovial  humor.  He 
strolled  about  with  a  rollicking  gait  and  devil- 
may-care  mannei*,  which  was  perhaps  the  reason 
we  gave  him  the  nickname,  by  which  he  was  uni- 
versally known,  of  "  The  Commodore ;"  or  it  is 
possible  he  may  have  expressed  some  predilec- 
tions for  the  quarter-deck,  for  which  he  seemed 
not  ill-adapted,  as  fai*,  at  any  rate,  as  appearances 
went.  His  grandfather  was  a  Presbyterian — a 
very  rich  man,  from  whom  he  had  great  expecta- 
tions. His  father  and  mother  were  both  dead ; 
and  as  they  had  been,  as  his  relatives  generally 
were,  Presbyterians  of  the  strictest  sect,  I  do  not 
know  how  it  happened  that  he  had  strayed  into 
the  fold  of  the  "  prelatics."  On  graduating  from 
the  college,  he  followed  for  a  short  period  the 
profession  of  his  father,  who,  Dr.  Guy  Carleton 


42  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

Bayley,  had  been  a  physician  of  some  prominence 
in  New  York,  and  for  a  time  the  chief  medical 
officer  of  the  Quarantine.  Our  class-fellow  Bay- 
ley,  however,  did  not  long  practise  as  a  doctor, 
but,  studying  theology,  was  ordained  a  clergy- 
man, first,  I  think,  in  the  Presbyterian,  and  after- 
ward in  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  While 
settled  as  the  rector  of  a  small  parish  at  Harlem, 
he  became  very  intimate  with  the  resident  Cath- 
olic priest,  who  is  said  to  have  exercised  a  good 
deal  of  influence  over  him.  However  this  may 
be,  much  to  the  surprise  of  his  friends  generally, 
and  greatly  to  the  vexation  of  his  Presbyterian 
grandfather,  who  cut  him  off  without  even  the 
traditional  shilling,  he  became  suddenly  a  con- 
vert to  Roman  Catholicism,  and  in  due  course  of 
time,  after  a  residence  as  an  acolyte  in  the  semi- 
nary of  St.  Sulpice,  in  Paris,  was  consecrated  a 
priest.  He  seems  to  have  been  an  especial  pro- 
tege of  Archbishop  Hughes,  whom  he  served  a 
long  time  as  secretary,  and  was  subsequently, 
through  his  influence,  made  Bishop  of  Newark, 
New  Jersey.  His  final  promotion  was  to  the 
Archbishopric  of  Baltimore,  where  he  died  in  an 
odor  of  great  sanctity,  and  left  a  memory  much 
revered  by  that  powerful  hierarchy  of  which  he 
was  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  zealous  cham- 
pions. 


TIIE    DESTINED   PLENIPOTENTIARY.  43 

The  minister  plenipotentiary  that  was  destined 
to  be,  John  Bigelow,  was  a  boisterous,  overgrown, 
awkward  boy,  to  whom  the  indefinable  nickname 
Rigdum  Funidos,  which  some  of  us  gave  him, 
seemed  not  inappropriate.  He  was  one  of  the 
youngest  of  the  students,  and  remained  so  short 
a  time  at  our  college  that  it  would  have  been 
difficult  to  form  any  idea  of  his  probable  future. 
He  left  after  the  second  year,  and  became  a  stu- 
dent of  Union  College,  in  Schenectady,  where  he 
developed  a  taste  for  study.  After  graduating, 
he  studied  law  in  the  city  of  New  York,  partly 
supporting  himself  in  the  mean  time  by  teaching. 
With  the  younger  Daponte  (son  of  the  Italian 
patriot),  Parke  Godwin,  Eames,  Tilden,  Butler, 
Clarke,  and  others,  mostly  old  fellow-students  at 
Union  College,  he  formed  a  society  called  "The 
Column,"  for  the  purpose  of  improvement  in  lit- 
erature and  debate.  These  young  men  all  be- 
came, more  or  less,  writers  for  the  various  jour- 
nals; and  Godwin  and  Bigelow  established  a  week- 
ly paper,  The  Pathfinder,  on  their  own  account. 
It  did  not  prosper,  though  great  credit  was 
awarded  by  the  critics  to  the  articles,  and  es- 
pecially to  some  remarkable  ones  attributed  to 
Bigelow.  After  the  demise  of  The  Pathfinder, 
Bigelow,  nothing  discouraged  with  literature, 
gave  up  the  law  and  devoted  himself  exclusively 


44  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

to  the  pursuit  of  letters,  writing  constantly  for 
the  papers  and  magazines,  editing  and  compiling, 
and  doing  other  miscellaneous  work  for  the  book- 
sellers. For  a  long  time  a  contributor  to  the 
N.  Y.  Evening  Post,  he  at  last  became  an  edi- 
tor and  proprietor  conjointly  with  Mr.  Bryant. 
Through  the  influence  of  this  devoted  republi- 
can paper  Bigelow  obtained  the  appointment  of 
United  States  Consul  to  Paris.  On  the  sudden 
death  of  Dayton,  the  American  minister  to  the 
Imperial  Court,  and  in  consequence  of  the  sup- 
posed incompetency  of  the  Secretary  of  Lega- 
tion, Bigelow  was  immediately  transferred  by 
President  Lincoln  from  the  consulate  to  the  em- 
bassy, with  the  title  of  charge  d'affaires.  Sub- 
sequently he  was  appointed  minister  plenipoten- 
tiary, and  upon  him  devolved  the  arduous  and 
responsible  duty  of  conducting  the  negotiations 
Avith  the  Imperial  Court  for  the  purpose  of  in- 
ducing France  to  withdraw  its  army  of  invasion 
from  Mexico.  The  successful  result  was  not  a 
little  due  to  the  persistent  and  judicious  energy 
with  which  Bigelow  co-operated  with  the  reso- 
lute policy  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  Seward,  and 
the  Cabinet  at  Washington.  On  his  return  from 
Paris,  Bigelow  settled  in  New  York,  and,  resum- 
ing his  old  alliance  with  the  democratic  party, 
which  had  been  temporarily  severed  during  the 


LITERARY    FACILITY.  45 

agitation  of  the  Slavery  question  and  the  prog- 
ress of  the  war,  was  elected  Secretary  of  State 
of  New  York.  Bigelow  has  been  an  industrious 
publicist  and  author.  He  is  the  writer  of  a  work 
on  Jamaica,  W.  I. ;  a  statistical  account  of  the 
United  States,  written  in  French  ;  and  the  editor 
of  the  best  edition  of  the  autobiography  of  Ben- 
jamin Franklin.  While  in  Paris,  he  fell  in  with 
the  original  manuscript,  and  published  it,  with  a 
completion  of  the  life  by  himself,  and  the  work 
is  now  acknowledged  to  be  the  standard  biogra- 
phy of  the  patriot  and  philosopher.  The  article 
"Franklin,"  in  the  new  edition  of  the  Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica,  now  in  the  course  of  publica- 
tion, was  written  by  Mr.  Bigelow.  The  unquiet, 
almost  shapeless  college  youth  has  developed  into 
the  sedate  and  portly  man  of  six  feet  in  height, 
with  an  appearance  of  much  personal  dignity  and 
distinction. 

Besides  these  three  notabilities — the  minister 
plenipotentiary,  the  archbishop,  and  the  bishop — 
our  little  class  supplied  Michigan  with  a  Secre- 
tary of  State,  and  Connecticut  with  a  Lieutenant- 
Governor. 

There  was  some  literary  facility  among  the 
students,  as  was  shown  by  the  publication  of  a 
few  numbers  of  a  college  magazine  with  this  title, 
characteristic  of  juvenile  pedantry:  The  Herm- 


46  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

athenian.  I  regarded  it  as  a  wonderful  per- 
formance, and  would  have  gladly  contributed  to 
it  had  I  deemed  myself  capable.  There  was  one 
of  the  migratory  teacher-students  who  had  writ- 
ten the  prize  story  for  a  country  newspaper,  upon 
whom  I  looked  with  great  admiration  as  undoubt- 
edly the  genius  of  the  college,  and  likely  in  fut- 
ure times  to  rival  in  reputation  Scott  and  Coop- 
er. I  have  forgotten  his  name.  Such,  alas,  is 
fame ! 

The  societies,  with  their  weekly  debates  and 
essays,  kept  alive  a  certain  interest  among  us  all, 
in  the  literary,  social,  and  political  topics  of  the 
day;  and  their  libraries  as  well  as  those  of  the 
college  supplied  us  abundantly  with  books,  of 
which  I  continued  to  be,  as  I  had  always  been,  a 
great  but  miscellaneous  and  indiscriminate  read- 
er. Besides  the  college  library  there  was  in  the 
same  room  or  hall,  covering  one  whole  side  of  it, 
a  large  collection  of  volumes,  to  which  additions 
were  being  constantly  made  by  the  frequent  ar- 
rivals of  great  foreign-looking  cases  crammed  full 
of  books,  directed  to  Professor  Samuel  Farmar 
Jarvis.  This  personage,  though  his  name  was 
very  familiar  to  us  all — for  it  had  always  for  many 
years  headed  the  list  of  the  Faculty  in  the  annu- 
al catalogue — was,  like  a  good  many  of  his  sham 
colleagues,  no  more  a  reality  to  us  than  Mrs. 


FORBIDDEN    FRUIT.  47 

Gamp's  shadowy  friend,  Mrs.  'Arris.  He  was 
nominally  a  professor  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  or 
something  of  that  sort ;  and  I  question,  as  he  had 
been  for  a  very  long  time  living  in  Europe,  wheth- 
er he  had  ever  seen  the  college,  or  even  thought 
of  it  but  as  a  convenient  place  where  to  send  his 
books,  and  thus  avoid  the  payment  of  Custom- 
house dues  and  the  expense  of  storage.  It  was 
expressly  stated  that  the  collection  belonged  to 
Samuel  Farrnar  Jarvis,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  S.T.D.,  etc., 
Professor  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  etc.,  etc.,  to 
give  him  his  full  title  as  set  down  in  the  college 
catalogue,  and  was  reserved  for  his  exclusive  use, 
while  every  student  was  warned  off  from  touch- 
ing a  single  book.  The  shelves,  however,  remain- 
ing quite  open,  and  the  librarian,  a  short-sighted, 
blinking  tutor,  who  could  not  see  further  than 
his  nose,  being  the  only  one  to  guard  them,  the 
students  finding  some  of  the  works  of  a  tempt- 
ing kind,  with,  moreover,  the  additional  attrac- 
tion of  being  forbidden  fruit,  helped  themselves 
without  scruple.  I,  while  admiring  the  good- 
taste  of  the  owner  for  not  confining  his  selection 
to  theology,  availed  myself  freely  of  the  choice 
miscellaneous  literature  I  found  on  his  shelves, 
and  carried  off,  I  recollect,  at  different  times,  all 
the  works  of  Fielding,  Smollett,  and  Sterne,  as 
well  as  of  other  authors.  I  must  do  myself  the 


48  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

justice  to  state,  however,  that  I  never  failed  to 
take  good  care  of  every  volume,  and  scrupulously 
to  return  it ;  but  I  fear,  with  some,  what  was  in- 
tended only  as  temporary  appropriation,  became 
permanent  larceny.  Among  the  collection  was 
a  copy  of  the  first  edition  of  "  Junius,"  with  cor- 
rections in  the  handwriting  of  the  author,  as  was 
stated  on  a  fly-leaf  of  the  volume.  This  would 
have  been,  to  any  investigator  of  the  authorship 
of  the  work,  of  immense  value ;  and  I  recollect 
having  carried  off  the  priceless  volume,  and  kept 
it  lying  about  my  room  in  my  careless  possession 
for  several  weeks ;  but  I  can  honestly  affirm  that 
it  was  finally  replaced  by  me  on  the  same  shelf 
whence  I  had  taken  it. 

There  seemed  to  be  a  sufficiency  of  miscella- 
neous talent  among  the  students  for  every  occa- 
sion of  college  requirement,  and  the  annual  jun- 
ior exhibitions  and  commencements  were  never 
without  their  traditional  comedy  and  poems  of 
the  usual  merit,  or  rather  want  of  merit,  of  such 
effusions.  At  the  end  of  the  year  it  was  cus- 
tomary for  the  students  to  get  up  a  mock  exhibi- 
tion, when  the  recognized  wag  of  the  class  was 
generally  selected  to  deliver  a  humorous  valedic- 
tory. On  one  of  these  occasions,  when  all  were 
assembled  in  great  expectation  of  an  evening's 
entertainment — for  the  chosen  spea'ker  was  cred- 


A    SHORT    VALEDICTORY.  49 

itcd  with  an  unusual  endowment  of  the  vis  comi- 
ca — he,  after  having  demurely  presented  himself 
and  bowed  to  the  audience,  said, "  Good-bye,  fel- 
lows !"  and  disappeared. 
4 


50  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Faculty. — The  Sham  Professors. — The  Real  Teachers. 
— Sleepy  David. — Old  Caloric. — The  President.  —  High 
Jinks. — A  Change.  —  The  New  President. — Holland. — 
Professor  Jim. — Habits  of  Exercise. — Vacations. — Chol- 
era in  New  York. — A  Speech  of  Henry  Clay. — Governor 
Ellsworth. — Isaac  Toucey. —Gideon  Welles. — Hunger- 
ford,  the  Lawyer. 

THOUGH  our  Faculty  was  nominally  largo  and 
imposing,  it  was  in  reality  very  small  and  insig- 
nificant. The  names  of  many  highly-titled  Rev- 
erends, and  Right  Reverends,  and  Honorables, 
and  Chief-justices,  and  Governors — with  all  the 
alphabetical  letters  our  colleges  and  universities 
distribute  so  profusely,  attached — figured  as  those 
of  professors  of  impossible  sciences  and  unheard- 
of  branches  of  learning,  in  the  circulars  and  an- 
nual catalogues.  They  themselves,  granting  their 
existence,  which  might  not  unreasonably  be  doubt- 
ed, never  showed  their  faces,  to  my  knowledge, 
within  the  precincts  of  the  college,  or  evinced 
the  least  interest  in  what  was  going  on  there. 
The  teaching  devolved  upon  two  or  three  quasi 


SLEEPY    DAVID.  51 

professors  or  tutors,  who  were  supposed  to  give 
instruction  in  Greek,  Latin,  mathematics,  chem- 
istry, and  philosophy — the  only  branches  taught. 
Our  instructors  were  mostly  young  clergymen, 
who  had  sought  their  tutorships  and  professor- 
ships merely  as  resting-places,  on  their  way  to 
something  better  which  they  were  hopeful  might 
turn  up.  They  were  perpetually  shifting,  so  that 
it  was  seldom  that  the  Faculty  remained  the  same 
for  two  consecutive  sessions. 

The  professors  seemed  to  me  in  the  recitations 
as  if  they  only  had  an  hour's  start  of  the  pupils, 
who  were,  evidently,  always  pressing  close  upon 
their  heels.  Some  were  absurdly  unfit  for  their 
places.  There  was  one  I  particularly  remember ; 
we  used  to  call  him"  Sleepy  David  ;"  I  am  sorry 
that  I  have  forgotten  his  real  name,  for  I  should 
have  liked  to  pillory  and  expose  him  here  to  the 
scorn  of  all  honest  teachers  and  lovers  of  sound 
education.  He  undertook  to  teach  us  geometry, 
and,  of  course,  at  the  end  of  the  session  we  knew 
no  more  of  it  than  at  the  beginning.  As,  how- 
ever, there  was  to  be  a  public  examination,  we 
became  anxious  as  to  the  possible  consequences 
of  our  ignorance;  so  we  went  in  a  body,  every 
one  of  the  class  without  a  single  exception,  and 
audaciously  declared  to  the  professor,  or  tutor, 
or  whatever  he  was — to  "  Sleepy  David,"  as  we 


52  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

termed  him — that  he  must  tell  us  in  advance  the 
proposition  he  would  call  upon  each  olus  to  dem- 
onstrate, and  he  did  so  ! 

One  professor,  a  retired  phy.sici.in  and  a  man 
of  fortune,  lived  during  the  summer  in  a  hand- 
some country  residence  near  the  college,  and,  as 
a  pleasant  distraction  to  him  in  his  leisure,  un- 
dertook to  teach  chemistry  to  the  students.  We 
called  him  "Old  Caloric;"  for,  take  what  time 
he  would,  he  resolutely  stuck  to  that  elementary 
branch  of  the  science,  leaving  us  to  suspect,  and 
justly,  I  firmly  believe,  that  he  dared  not  vent- 
ure farther,  for  fear  of  getting  out  of  his  depth. 
His  services,  however,  were  said  to  be  gratuitous, 
and,  upon  such  cheap  terms,  perhaps  we  got  as 
much  as  we  were  entitled  to,  and  should  have 
been  grateful  for  being  allowed  to  flounder  about 
in  the  shallows  without  expecting  the  privilege 
of  diving  into  the  profundities  of  science. 

The  president,  the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Brownell, 
Bishop  of  Connecticut,  was  a  venerable,  amiable 
man,  who  performed  his  collegiate  duties  in  n, 
very  perfunctory  manner.  Contenting  himself 
with  a  good-natured  smile  to  every  student  he 
met,  and  an  occasional  homily  on  some  general 
moral  obligation,  delivered  in  his  peculiarly  bland 
manner  from  the  chapel  rostrum  or  pulpit,  he 
left  the  rest  to  his  incompetent  subordinates,  who 


HIGH    JINKS.  53 

were  equally  remiss  in  fulfilling  their  duties  as 
guardians  and  teachers. 

There  was  some  pretence  of  visiting  the  stu- 
dents' rooms  every  evening ;  but  this  show  of  su- 
pervision did  not  hinder  us  from  absenting  our- 
selves with  impunity  whenever  we  pleased,  and 
we  frequented  at  will  each  other's  apartments  or 
sallied  out  into  the  town  at  any  hour  of  the  day 
or  night.  We  were  left  undisturbed  in  our  high 
jinks,  both  inside  and  outside  of  the  college  walls. 
We  had  our  frequent  symposiums  in  our  rooms, 
eating  and  drinking  to  any  excess  without  much 
fear  of  check,  and  I  attribute  much  of  my  own 
subsequent  ill -health  to  these  irregular  indul- 
gences. We  were  eating  doughy  mince  and  ap- 
ple pies,  and  washing  them  down  with  eggnog 
and  punch,  which  we  mixed  in  our  wash-basins, 
stirred  with  the  handles  of  our  tooth-brushes, 
and  drank  out  of  our  soap-boats,  during  the  night 
and  throughout  the  small  hours  of  the  morning, 
when  we  should  have  been  fast  asleep  in  our 
beds.  If  not  in  our  college  rooms,  we  were  prob- 
ably in  the  town  taverns  and  confectionaries,  do- 
ing worse. 

There  was  some  improvement  in  the  discipline 
and  teaching  on  the  appointment  of  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Whcaton  as  president,  in  the  place  of  Bishop 
Brownell,  and  of  William  Holland  as  professor  of 


54  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

the  Latin  and  Greek  languages.  The  new  presi- 
dent was  a  prim  Puritanical-looking  person,  of  a 
severe  countenance  and  resolute  conduct,  but  he 
wanted  tact,  and  could  not  reform  without  dis- 
organizing. 

Holland,  the  new  professor,  had  been  a  tutor 
in  Yale  College,  and  had  a  greater  mastery  over 
the  subjects  he  pretended  to  teach  than  some  of 
his  predecessors, but  his  heart  was  not  fully  in  his 
business,  and  he  preferred  the  political  forum  to 
the  groves  of  Academus.  He  often  made  speeches 
at  the  democratic  town-meetings,  and  so  identi- 
fied himself  with  the  cause  of  Van  Buren,  when 
nominated  for  President  of  the  United  States,  as 
to  write  a  popular  and  flattering  biography  of 
him,  and  travel  about  the  country  on  an  election- 
eering tour,  commending  him  to  the  suffrage  of 
the  people.  He,  after  leaving  the  college,  settled 
in  New  York  as  a  lawyer,  but  died  before  he  was 
able  to  accomplish  much,  either  in  his  profession 
or  political  life. 

There  was  one  member  of  the  Faculty,  perhaps 
the  most  notable  one  of  the  whole  set,  who  is  en- 
titled to  a  remembrance.  He,  too,  like  the  rest, 
performed  his  vocations  in  rather  a  perfunctory 
manner,  but  he  was  a  faithful  fellow  withal,  and 
stuck  more  closely  to  his  duties  than  any  of  the 
others.  He  had  been  at  least  constant  to  his 


PROFESSOR   JIM.  55 

profession,  for  he  had  served  the  college  ever 
since  its  establishment.  This  was  "Professor 
Jim"  —  as  we  called  him  —  our  negro  janitor, 
whose  special  duty  it  was  to  sweep  out  daily  some 
thirty  rooms,  and  make  at  least  sixty  beds,  which 
he  undertook  to  do  and  did  in  a  manner.  Though 
he,  probably  from  necessity,  was  somewhat  re- 
miss in  the  performance  of  his  duties,  he  nega- 
tively was  of  considerable  benefit  to  us  all;  for, 
what  he  neglected  to  do,  we  were  forced  to  do 
for  ourselves,  and  thus  became  by  compulsion 
practically  useful  and  self-reliant.  We  made  our 
own  fires,  cleaned  our  own  shoes,  brought  up  our 
own  water,  and  got  rid,  in  some  way  or  other, 
of  our  own  slops.  Many  of  us,  besides,  sawed 
our  own  wood,  and  carried  it  up  into  our  rooms. 
Professor  Jim  had  a  history,  which  he  was  fond 
of  relating.  He  had  been  a  sailor  on  board  the 
Shannon  during  the  famous  fight  with  the  Ches- 
apeake, having  been  impressed  into  the  service 
of  the  English  Navy,  and  thus  may  be  regarded 
as  having  shared  in  the  honor  of  causing  that 
little  war  of  1812,  of  which  we  are  so  patriotical- 
ly proud.  He  used  to  assure  us  that,  on  the  ap- 
proach of  the  engagement  between  Lawrence  and 
Brook,  he  had  been  caught  in  the  act  of  spiking 
the  cannon  of  the  Shannon,  and  kept  in  irons 
during  the  famous  fight.  He  died  a  few  years 


56  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

since,  at  a  very  advanced  age ;  and  it  is  pleasant 
to  know  that  his  last  days  were  consoled  and 
comforted  with  a  pension  —  a  liberal  one,  it  is 
hoped — from  the  college. 

The  students  were  not  very  enterprising  in  ex- 
ploration of  the  country  around  Hartford.  We 
took  no  long  walks,  or,  in  fact,  systematic  bodily 
exercise  of  any  kind.  We  played  no  out-door 
games,  regarding  cricket  and  foot  and  base  ball, 
and  other  such  invigorating  pastimes,  as  quite 
below  the  dignity  of  collegiate  students.  In  sum- 
mer, however,  some  of  the  younger  and  more  ad- 
venturous swam  both  the  "  Little  "  and  Connecti- 
cut rivers,  and  in  winter  skated  upon  them.  None 
but  myself  and  fellow-proprietor  of  our  little  skiff 
ever  thought  of  taking  a  spii-t  at  rowing.  We 
occasionally,  however,  took  a  drive  to  Wads- 
worth's  Tower,  some  ten  miles  from  Hartford, 
or  a  sleigh-ride  en  masse  to  Wethersfield,  famous 
for  its  onions,  its  pretty  girls,  and  delicious  "flip." 
I  was  an  occasional  companion  in  a  drive  of  an 
old  New  York  friend,  who  had  entered  the  col- 
lege at  my  earnest  solicitation,  for  which  I  hope 
he  may  have  forgiven  me.  He  was  no  more  dis- 
posed to  study  at  Hartford  than  he  had  been  at 
the  Grammar-school  in  Murray  Street,  and  pass- 
ed the  whole  week  doing  nothing  but  exercising 
his  patience  in  waiting  for  the  coming  round  of 


A    SAD    VACATION.  57 

the  Saturday,  when,  loaded  with  his  gun  and  fish- 
ing-rod, he  used  to  set  off  in  a  buggy  for  Wind- 
sor. I  do  not  recollect  that  he  ever,  when  I  ac- 
companied him,  filled  his  creel  or  shooting-bn£, 
but  I  shall  never  forget  the  savory  trout  and 
plump  quails  with  which  the  sporting  host  of 
the  Windsor  Hotel  used  to  regale  us  at  table, 
and  more  than  compensate  TIS  for  our  own  ill- 
luck  in  the  brook  and  the  woods. 

During  the  whole  four  years  I  was  at  college, 
I  never  failed  to  spend  each  of  the  three  annual 
vacations  at  home ;  and  sometimes  in  the  winter 
I  have  gone  the  whole  way  from  Hartford  to 
New  York  in  an  open  sleigh,  when  the  snow  and 
snow-drifts  made  the  roads  impassable  for  the 
Boston  mail-coach  or  stage,  which  was  the  usual 
means  of  conveyance  by  land. 

It  was  during  a  summer  vacation  (1832)  that 
the  cholera  in  New  York  was  at  its  height.  I 
went  home  even  then,  but  gradually,  as  it  were, 
stopping  on  the  route  at  Greenfield  Farms,  where 
some  friends  had  fled  for  refuge.  I  recollect,  as 
I  presented  myself  among  the  group,  how  each 
one,  thinking  that  I  might  have  come  from  some 
infected  district,  shrunk  back  and  withheld  his 
hand;  while  an  old  gentleman, whom  I  knew  well, 
fairly  turned  his  back  upon  rne  and  took  to  his 
heels,  ramming,  at  the  same  time,  great  fingers- 


58  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

ful  of  snuff  into  his  nostrils.  I  did  not  stay  long 
at  Greenfield  Farms,  but  soon  went,  in  spite  of 
the  cholera,  to  New  York,  where  I  remained  with 
my  family  during  the  whole  summer.  We  lived 
on  a  diet  and  regimen  that  were  supposed  suita- 
ble for  warding  off  any  attack  of  the  pestilence. 
We  ate  no  fruit  or  vegetables  of  any  kind,  not 
even  potatoes,  and  drank  regularly  at  our  dinners 
pretty  strong  potations  of  port-wine  and  water. 
We  all  escaped  without  even  a  premonitory  symp- 
tom of  the  cholera.  I  have  never  spent,  however, 
a  more  terrible  time — one  more  "full  with  hor- 
rors " — for  each  moment  of  the  day  we  were  re- 
minded of  the  dreadful  pestilence  which  was  rav- 
aging the  city  in  which  we  dwelt.  There  was 
no  other  topic  of  conversation  in-doors  and  out. 
The  daily  number  of  attacks  and  deaths,  of  which 
there  were  printed  slips  issued  from  the  newspa- 
per offices,  was  reiterated  by  every  one  we  met, 
with  probably  a  supplementary  account,  with  all 
the  sickening  details  of  some  specially  sudden 
case  of  horror,  of  private  experience.  There  was 
hardly  a  person  who  had  not  his  story  to  tell  of 
this  friend  or  that  neighbor  who  had  died — one 
after  eating  a  peach,  another  after  eating  a  pota- 
to, or  some  article  of  food  deemed  generally  not 
only  innocuous  but  most  wholesome.  It  was 
the  last  thing  the  poor  victim  ate  which  was 


HENRY    CLAY.  59 

always  regarded  as  the  teterrima  causa  of  his 
death. 

We  had  occasional  visits  at  the  college  from 
the  presidents  and  other  great  men  on  their 
periodical  tours  over  the  country.  Henry  Clay 
was  received  by  the  whole  body  of  the  students, 
headed  by  college  president  and  professors,  and, 
being  addressed  by  one  of  them,  responded  in  a 
speech.  I  cannot  recall  what  he  said  on  that  oc- 
casion ;  but,  during  the  same  visit,  when  I  heard 
him  address  the  citizens  of  Hartford,  I  can  re- 
member the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  which  was 
singularly  inappropriate,  I  thought,  to  his  sober- 
sided  New  England  audience:  "I  did  not,"  he 
said, "  come  here  to  be  treated  with  any  form  or 
ceremony,  but  to  see  you  as  friends ;  in  a  word, 
to  take  a  drink  and  a  chew  of  tobacco  with  you!" 
This  might  have  been  a  welcome  peroration  to  a 
throng  of  his  jolly  constituents  assembled  about  a 
Western  tavern,  where  the  deed  would,  no  doubt, 
have  quickly  followed  upon  the  word  ;  but  it  was 
like  a  sudden  dash  of  cold  water  into  the  faces 
of  his  Puritanical  friends  of  the  East,  after  the 
soul-stirring  orator  had  first  warmed  them  into 
sympathy  with  his  genial  eloquence. 

The  students  visited  occasionally  in  Hartford, 
and  I  became  more  or  less  familiar  with  some 
of  the  notabilities  of  the  place.  There  was  Ells- 


GO  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

worth,  the  Governor  of  the  State,  a  tall,  broad- 
shouldered,  simply  attired,  and  dignified-looking 
man,  who  received  a  salary  of  only  one  thousand 
dollars  a  year,  and  lived  upon  it — his  daugh- 
ters serving  at  his  table  and  doing  other  homely 
household  duties,  as  was  customary  in  those 
days  in'  the  best  New  England  families,  when 
women  contrived  to  be  useful  without  a  tarnish 
to  their  refinement. 

The  governors  of  Connecticut  used  to  wear  a 
small  black  cockade  on  the  side  of  their  beaver 
hats,  near  the  top,  like  the  cockades  worn  by  Eu- 
ropean footmen.  I  have  not  seen  any  governor 
for  many  a  year,  and  I  wonder  whether  they  wear 
cockades,  and  live  on  one  thousand  dollars  per 
annum,  nowadays ! 

I  saw  Isaac  Toucey  often,  subsequently  Secre- 
tary of  the  Navy,  under  Pierce.  He  was  a  statu- 
esque-looking man,  with  a  great  projecting  fore- 
head, as  square,  smooth,  and  white  as  a  block  of 
marble.  He,  either  if  walking  or  rather  stalking, 
or  standing,  bore  himself  as  stiff  and  erect  as  a 
column  of  the  State  House,  and  when  he  spoke, 
his  sentences  were  uttered  with  the  slowness  and 
emphasis  of  not-to-be-questioned  oracles.  It  was 
edifying  to  us  young  folks  to  behold  so  dignified 
a  personage  regularly  in  his  place  in  the  Episco- 
pal Church  where  we  attended,  and  to  see  him 


NOTABILITIES.  Gl 

humbly  soliciting,  with  the  plate  in  his  hand,  at 
each  pew -door  the  alms  of  the  charitable;  for 
he  was  one  of  the  wardens  or  vestrymen,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  make  the  collection. 

Gideon  Welles,  the  editor  of  the  Hartford 
Times,  and  at  one  time  Secretary  of  the  Navy, 
was  a  slouchy  man  with  a  shock  head  of  hair,  as 
full  and  scattered  as  the  twirling  mop  of  a  serv- 
ing-maid. 

Hungerford,  the  leading  lawyer  of  Hartford,  a 
really  able  and  eloquent  man,  had  a  peculiarity 
that  no  one  who  ever  observed  it  could  easily 
forget.  As  soon  as  he  began  to  speak,  his  nose 
would  begin  to  wrinkle,  the  movement  increas- 
ing, and  the  furrows  deepening  more  and  more, 
as  he  warmed  in  his  discourse.  I  never  noticed 
a  habit  of  more  ludicrous  effect. 


62  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Graduation. — An  old  Diploma. — Its  Suggestions. — Choice 
of  Profession. — The  Bells  and  Mason  Good's  Works. — 
Enter  University  of  Pennsylvania. — Professor  Homer. — 
The  Mysteries  and  Horrors  of  Dissecting-room. — Dr.  Hare. 
— Chemical  Displays.  — Surgery  at  Blocksley  Hospital. 
— Professor  Gibson. — Other  Professors. — Doctors  made 
Easy. — Passage  to  Liverpool.  —  A  Jolly  Voyage. — Dr. 
Hawks. — Arrival  in  Liverpool. — Departure  for  Edinburgh. 

ON  the  6th  of  August,  1835,1  spoke  rny  com- 
mencement speech  on  the  text,  Ingenuas  artes 
didicisse,  emollit  mores  nee  sinit  esset  feros,  not 
that  I  knew  much  theoretically  or  practically  of 
the  influence  of  the  arts,  for  I  believe  that  I  was 
as  insensible  of  their  refining  effects  as  a  Zulu 
warrior.  I  then  received  my  degree  of  B.A. 
(bachelor  of  arts).  I  have  the  diploma  before 
me  at  this  moment.  The  parchment  has  turned 
yellow  with  age,  but  the  view  of  the  college  at 
the  top  is  clearly  discernible,  with  the  projected 
wing,  that  was  never  built,  added,  to  give  com- 
pleteness to  the  picture,  but  which  to  me  is  only 
a  symbol  of  the  sham  establishment  whose  pre- 
tensions were  always  in  advance  of  its  perform- 


LEAVING    COLLEGE.  63 

ances.  The  seal  has  melted  into  a  shapeless  mass 
of  red  wax,  with  not  a  line  of  the  original  stamp 
left ;  while  the  once  bright  blue  ribbon  to  which 
it  is  attached  has  lost  all  its  original  color,  and 
faded  to  a  dingy  white.  These,  too,  may  be  sym- 
bolical, and  serve  to  remind  me  of  the  effects 
of  time  and  age,  the  obliterated  impressions  and 
vanished  hopes  of  youth.  I  have  had  the  bit  of 
parchment  for  nearly  half  a  century,  but  I  know 
not  why  I  have  kept  it,  for  I  have  never  looked 
at  it  during  those  many  years  until  now,  and  it 
has  never  been  of  any  other  use  than  to  point 
the  sentences  I  have  just  written. 

I  left  the  college,  for  it  was  no  alma  mater  or 
benign  mother  to  me,  without  a  regretful  feeling 
or  reverential  remembrance.  I  would  have  glad- 
ly dropped  a  veil  of  oblivion  over  those  impor- 
tant but  wasted  four  years.  I  do  not  wholly 
blame  myself;  for  I  was  eager  for  knowledge 
and  amenable  to  discipline,  and  I  am  sure  that,  if 
those  whose  duty  it  was  to  guide  and  govern  me 
had  better  fulfilled  their  obligations,!  should  have 
been  less  recreant  to  mine.  Washington  is  now 
Trinity  College,  and,  with  its  fresh  baptism,  it  is 
hoped  that  it  has  been  inspired  with  a  new  and 
better  life — it  could  not  be  worse. 

Before  leaving  college,  I  had  taken  a  fancy — I 
can  hardly  call  it  by  so  strong  a  term  as  a  reso- 


64  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

lution — to  become  a  physician.  I  do  not  know 
that  I  had  any  peculiar  fitness  or  even  a  taste  for 
the  profession,  but  I  was  not  any  better  adapted 
or  more  inclined  for  the  bar  or  the  pulpit,  and  I 
had  to  make  a  choice  of  one  of  the  three.  The 
motive  which  induced  me,  I  think,  to  settle  on 
the  medical  profession  was  the  no  more  serious 
one  than  that  my  last  chum  in  college  had  se- 
lected it,  and  I  thought  it  would  be  pleasant  to 
continue  my  companionship  with  him  as  a  fel- 
low-student in  our  new  studies.  He  was  going 
to  the  Medical  School  of  the  University  of  Penn- 
sylvania at  Philadelphia,  and  it  was  arranged  that 
I  should  join  him  there  on  the  opening  of  the 
session  in  November. 

I  do  not  recollect  very  well  how  I  spent  the 
interval  of  three  months.  I  may  have  been  for 
some  time  in  the  country,  and,  no  doubt,  I  read  a 
good  deal  in  my  usual  desultory  way.  With  the 
kindly  intention  of  giving  me  a  foretaste  of  my 
medical  studies,  some  of  my  friends  had  provided 
me  with  copies  of  the  "Anatomy,"  by  John  and 
Charles  Bell,  the  two  celebrated  Edinburgh  sur- 
geons, and  of  the  "  Study  of  Medicine,"  by  John 
Mason  Good.  I  could  not  have  had  two  works 
better  calculated  to  enamor  me  with  the  profes- 
sion I  had  resolved  upon  pursuing.  Medical  sci- 
ence has  brought  to  life  and  buried  whole  libra- 


UNIVERSITY    OF    PENNSYLVANIA.  65 

vies  of  text-books  since  those  days ;  but  the  vol- 
umes of  the  Bells  and  Good,  though  they  may 
now  be  scorned  as  guides,  have  never  lost  their 
literary  interest,  and  will  always  be  welcomed  as 
the  most  charming  companions  for  a  leisure  hour. 

My  friend  and  fellow-student  had  selected  his 
lodgings  in  Philadelphia  before  I  arrived,  and  I 
felt  bound,  out  of  good  comradeship,  to  join  him  ; 
but  they  were  in  a  boarding-house,  cheap  even 
for  those  times — three  dollars  a  week — and  the 
style  of  living,  as  well  as  the  company,  was  so 
little  to  my  liking,  that  I  felt  uneasy  during  the 
whole  time  of  my  stay. 

I  attended  all  the  lectures  pretty  regularly,  but 
gave  my  chief  attention  to  those  on  anatomy  and 
chemistry.  Professor  Homer  was  a  cleai'  dem- 
onstrator, though  little  else,  and  under  him  I  ac- 
quired a  fair  elementary  knowledge  of  anatomy; 
and  by  the  daily  sight  of  the  dead  subject  on  his 
table, and  the  occasional  dissection  of  "a  part" 
by  myself,  became  so  familiarized  with  these  pro- 
fessional horrors  as  greatly  to  overcome  my  first 
natural  repugnance. 

The  dissecting-room  was  only  accessible  at 
night,  and  those  who  were  allowed  to  frequent  it 
were  enjoined  to  keep  the  fact  a  secret  from  all 
but  the  initiated.  This  may  have  been  necessa- 
ry ;  for  the  laws  of  Pennsylvania  either  did  not 
5 


66  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

recognize  as  legal  the  dissection  of  the  human 
body,  or  public  opinion  was  so  opposed  to  it  that 
it  was  not  safe  to  practise  it  openly.  This  secre- 
cy, and  the  precautions  which  were  taken  to  pre- 
serve it,  the  nightly  visitation,  the  whispered  com- 
munications between  the  knowing  ones,  and  the 
guarded  silence  to  all  others,  cast  over  the  whole 
business  such  an  air  of  mystery,  and  made  it  so 
much  a  deed  of  darkness,  that  I  never  went  to 
this  simple  performance  of  my  duty  without  feel- 
ing somewhat  as  must  feel  the  assassin  going 
in  the  night  with  stealthy  steps  to  his  act  of 
murder. 

Dr.  Hare,  the  Professor  of  Chemistry,  amused 
me,  as  he  did  every  one  else,  with  his  various  fire- 
works, his  flashy  and  explosive  displays  of  elec- 
tricity, and  his  exhibitions  of  the  eccentric  effects 
of  the  gases,  oxygen,  and  protoxide  of  nitrogen, 
upon  himself  and  some  of  the  more  adventurous 
students,  but  he  succeeded  in  teaching  very  little 
of  the  principles  of  his  science  to  any  of  us. 

At  Blocksley  Hospital,  Dr.  Gibson,  the  Profes- 
sor of  Surgery,  showed  us  each  week  bloody  work 
enough  to  have  quickly  familiarized  the  most  in- 
experienced ;  but  I  could  never  witness  his  bru- 
tality without  a  severe  shock  to  my  feelings,  and 
he  hardly  ever  lectured  without  sending  away 
from  the  amphitheatre  several  students  in  faint- 


A    SURGICAL   PROFESSOR.  67 

ing  fits.  Many  of  his  exhibitions  were  unneces- 
sarily demonstrative;  for  he  seemed  to  take  a 
great  delight  in  accumulating  as  large  a  number 
of  horrible  cases  as  he  could,  and  displaying  them 
in  public  without  regard  to  the  feelings  of  the 
poor  sufferers  or  the  sympathy  of  the  pitying 
spectators.  He  at  one  time,  I  recollect,  ordered 
all  the  patients — and  there  must  have  been  nearly 
fifty  of  them  in  the  hospital — affected  with  chorea, 
or  St.Vitus's  dance,  to  be  brought  together  into 
the  pit  of  the  amphitheatre,  for  no  other  purpose, 
apparently,  than  to  exhibit  the  eccentric  move- 
ments of  the  poor  creatures  thus  afflicted.  To 
me  it  was  one  of  the  most  painful  scenes  I  ever 
witnessed ;  for  I  could  not  but  think  how  much 
the  sad  consciousness  to  each  of  his  dreadful 
malady  must  be  increased  by  witnessing  its  hor- 
rid distortions  and  convulsive  movements  in  the 
others,  and  how  greatly  intensified  the  sense  of 
an  affliction  thus  made  manifest  to  the  gaze  of  a 
crowd  of  gaping  spectators. 

Professor  Gibson  was  a  sturdy  man,  with  a 
stout  muscular  arm,  short  cropped  iron-gray  hair, 
a  hard  aquiline  nose,  and  cold  blue  eyes.  He 
was  always  equipped,  when  about  to  operate,  in 
a  sort  of  butcher's  apron  and  sleeves  of  a  black 
water,  or,  rather,  blood-proof  cloth.  He  prided 
himself,  and  justly — for  it  was  a  great  operation 


68  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

— on  a  successful  performance  of  the  Caesarean 
section,  where  both  the  woman  and  the  child  who 

"Was  from  his  mother's  womb 
Untimely  ripp'd," 

survived.  The  professor  must  have  been  in  his 
element  during  this  heroic  operation — up  to  his 
elbows  in  blood ! 

Of  the  rest  of  the  Faculty  I  know  but  little. 
Wood,  the  Professor  of  Materia  Medica,  the  joint 
author  with  Bache  of  the  standard  "  United  States 
Dispensatory,"  had  the  peculiarity  of  being  with- 
out a  single  natural  hair  on  any  part  of  his  body. 
He,  however,  by  the  aid  of  a  flowing  wig  and 
well-designed  artificial  eyebrows,  made,  with  his 
pale  sculptured  face  and  tall  dignified  person, 
one  of  the  most  presentable  members  of  the 
whole  professorial  corps.  Chapman,  the  Profes- 
sor of  the  Practice  of  Medicine,  was  a  great  far- 
ceur, and  cared  much  more  to  amuse  than  instruct 
his  class.  Jackson,  the  Professor  of  Physiology, 
speculating  instead  of  experimenting,  went  on, 
session  after  session,  mystifying  himself  more 
and  more,  and  "becoming  less  and  less  intelligible 
to  us.  I,  for  one,  confess  that  I  never  could  un- 
derstand a  word  he  said.  Hodges,  the  Professor 
of  Midwifery,  was  an  earnest, conscientious  man, 
who  did  his  best  to  cram  all  that  was  known  of 


MURDEROUS   IGNORANCE.  69 

his  science  into  the  crania  of  three  hundred  raw 
students  in  the  space  of  four  months,  but  it  was 
slashing  work. 

Eight  months  of  study  in  all,  or  two  sessions 
of  four  months  each,  were  required  for  admission 
to  the  examination  for  a  degree.  No  prelimina- 
ry education  of  any  kind  was  necessary,  and  hun- 
dreds of  young  men  without  the  least  knowledge 
of  Latin  and  Greek,  and  to  whom,  consequently, 
each  technical  word  of  the  sciences  they  professed 
to  learn  and  master  must  have  remained  a  per- 
petual puzzle,  and  with  hardly  any  other  acquire- 
ment beyond  a  superficial  acquaintance  with  the 
elements  of  learning,  were — after  listening  for 
eight  months  to  the  various  courses  of  lectures 
which  they  could  not  possibly  understand,  even 
if  they  had  time  enough  —  annually  authorized 
by  the  University  of  Pennsylvania  to  practise  as 
physicians,  to  whose  murderous  ignorance  any 
one  might  fall  a  victim. 

It  was  understood  that,  on  my  leaving  Phila- 
delphia at  the  end  of  the  first  term,  I  was  to  go 
to  Edinburgh,  in  Scotland,  for  the  completion  of 
my  medical  studies.  I  do  not  recollect  how  Or 
with  whom  the  idea  originated,  but  I  gladly  wel- 
comed the  prospect,  as  most  young  men  of  my 
age  naturally  would,  of  a  change,  and  the  oppor- 
tunity of  travel  into  foreign  lands. 


70  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

I,  accordingly,  set  sail  for  Liverpool  in  the 
packet-ship  /St.  Andrew,  Captain  William  Thomp- 
son, in  the  spring  of  1836.  It  was  probably  ear- 
ly in  the  month  of  May,  but  I  cannot  recall  the 
exact  date.  The  captain,  an  Irishman  of  good 
family  and  education,  was  a  great  favorite  with 
his  countrymen  of  the  North  of  Ireland,  of  whom 
there  was  a  considerable  number  in  New  York, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  wealth  and  high  social  posi- 
tion. Several  of  these  with  whom  he  was  very 
intimate  were  our  fellow-passengers,  and  the  cap- 
tain regarded  them  very  much  in  the  light  of  his 
guests ;  and,  entertaining  them  accordingly,  they 
and  we  were  regaled  right  royally.  The  poop 
hung  with  saddles  of  venison,  fat  turkeys,  canvas- 
back  ducks,  plump  fowls,  and  succulent  game  of 
all  kinds,  and,  festooned  with  gigantic  bunches  of 
celery,  gave  us,  as  soon  as  we  stepped  on  board, 
a  promise  of  dainty  abundance,  which  was  ful- 
filled most  sumptuously  on  each  day  to  the  last 
of  the  three  weeks'  voyage.  In  those  times  the 
large  sum  of  forty  guineas,  or  two  hundred  dol- 
lars, was  paid  for  a  passage.  This  included  a 
d'aily  supply  of  wine — port,  sherry,  and  madeira 
at  discretion,  and  champagne  twice  or  three  times 
a  week.  With  this  gratuitous  flow  of  drinkables, 
the  more  convivial  habits  of  those  days,  and  the 
greater  length  of  the  voyages  by  sailing  vessels, 


ACROSS    THE    ATLANTIC.  71 

a  passage  across  the  Atlantic  in  a  first-class  pack- 
et-ship, particularly  under  the  circumstances  of  a 
company  of  intimate  friends,  and  those  a  set  of 
merry  Irishmen,  in  charge  of  the  captain,  was 
sure  to  be  a  continued  jollification.  We  all  be- 
came intimately  acquainted,  and  each  dinner  was 
prolonged  into  a  session  like  that  of  a  club  of 
merry  fellows,  where  the  bottle  circulated,  and 
the  speech,  the  song,  and  the  quips  and  cranks 
went  round  until  a  late  hour  of  the  night. 

Dr.  Hawks,  of  New  York,  who  was  a  passen- 
ger, was  a  great  favorite  with  every  one  on  board ; 
and  the  services  he  read,  and  the  short,  simple 
addresses  he  delivered  from  the  capstan-head  on 
the  Sunday,  were  as  well  appreciated  by  all,  from 
captain  to  Ducks,  as  his  more  elaborate  discourses 
from  the  pulpit  of  St.  Thomas  had  been  by  its 
imposing  crowds. 

The  doctor,  moreover,  in  our  less  serious  mo- 
ments, was  the  most  cheerful  of  companions,  tak- 
ing part  readily  in  the  drolleries  of  the  occasion, 
whatever  they  might  be.  He  performed,  I  rec- 
ollect, the  part  of  judge  in  a  burlesque  court,  on 
the  trial  of  one  of  the  passengers  for  having  sur- 
reptitiously taken,  and  disposed  of  by  eating,  the 
remains  of  a  Stilton  cheese.  He  showed  infinite 
humor  in  his  grave  affectation  of  gravity,  and 
every  word  of  his  charge  was  followed  by  peals 


72  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

of  laughter,  not  only  from  jury  and  counsel  but 
even  from  the  prisoner  himself.  From  Liver- 
pool, where  we  arrived  after  a  passage  of  from 
eighteen  to  twenty-one  days  or  so,  I  proceeded 
to  Edinburgh. 

Although  the  first  of  the  railways — the  Liver- 
pool and  Manchester — had  been  for  some  time  in 
regular  operation,  and  the  whole  of  England  was 
in  course  of  being  cut  up  to  make  way  for  oth- 
ers, I  then  had  no  choice  in  going  to  Edinburgh 
but  between  a  long  and  tedious  ride  of  days  and 
nights  by  stage-coach  and  a  sea-voyage.  I  chose 
the  latter,  taking  the  steamer  from  Liverpool  to 
Glasgow,  and  the  mail  thence  to  Edinburgh. 


ARRIVAL   IN   EDINBURGH.  73 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Arrival  in  Edinburgh. — The  Summer  Session  at  the  Univer- 
sity.— My  First  Quarters. — A  Disorderly  Household. — 
Historical,  Romantic,  and  Personal  Associations. — The 
High  Street  of  Edinburgh. — The  Little  Chapel. — Alison 
on  "Taste." — Mackay  the  Actor.  —  Holyrood  Palace. — 
Arthur's  Seat  and  Salisbury  Crag. — Heriot's  Hospital. — 
The  Meadows. — The  Links  and  Golfers. — Convent. — The 
Site  of  the  College. — Murder  of  Darnley. — The  Univers- 
ity and  its  Associations. 

I  ARRIVED  in  Edinburgh  in  time  to  attend  the 
summer  session  (1836),  during  which  the  profes- 
sor of  botany  delivered  a  course  of  lectures,  and 
the  various  private  schools  of  anatomy  and  chem- 
istry were  open.  Attendance  at  the  university 
during  the  summer  sessions  was  not  obligatory, 
and  there  were,  consequently,  but  few  students 
in  comparison  with  the  large  number  in  winter. 
The  university  building  was  closed  ;  but  the  pro- 
fessor of  botany  delivered  his  course  of  lectures 
at  the  beautiful  botanical  garden  situated  in  the 
suburbs,  at  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  city. 
Having  duly  matriculated,  I  took  the  "ticket" 
for  this  course,  and  at  the  same  time  became  a 


74  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

student  of  the  private  anatomical  school  taught 
by  Dr.  Sharpey,  afterward  the  eminent  professor 
of  the  University  of  London. 

I  was  commended  to  a  Dr.  Y ,  who  agreed 

to  give  me  board  and  lodging,  and  such  contin- 
gent advantages  as  a  youthful  medical  student 
could  derive  from  his  professional  practice,  for 
sixty  pounds  a  year.  The  doctor  was  what  is 
called  a  general  practitioner — a  plain,  practical 
man,  with  no  pretensions  whatsoever  to  scientific 
or  general  culture.  His  business  was  among  the 
small  tradesmen  and  mechanics,  of  whom  there 
were  many  in  the  neighborhood  of  George's 
Square,  where  he  lived.  His  patients,  though 
generally  of  the  humbler  classes,  were  numerous 
and  remunerative  enough  to  justify  him  in  keep- 
ing a  horse  and  gig,  or  drosky,  rather,  as  it  was 
always  called,  and  to  enable  him  to  support  his 
large  family  plainly  but  in  tolerable  comfort. 
His  household  was  conducted  on  the  strictest 
principles  of  economy,  and  his  table  was  neither 
liberally  supplied  nor  elegantly  served.  There 
was  always,  however,  a  fair  allowance  of  parritch 
and  pease-brose,  baps,  broth,  and  caller  haddies, 
those  peculiar  Scotch  dainties  with  which  I  then 
became  first  and  fully  acquainted,  though  only 
by  dint  of  hard  scrambling  for  them  with  my 
numerous  hungry  competitors  of  the  Y—  —  fam- 


THE    ROMANCE    OP    EDINBURGH.  75 

ily.  The  house  was  in  a  continual  state  of  dis- 
order, the  chief  elements  of  which  were  a  squall- 
ing baby,  a  tumbling  child,  pugnacious  brothers 
and  sisters,  a  scolding  mistress,  and  a  grumbling 
servant-maid.  I  made  my  escape  in  the  course 
of  a  few  months. 

In  the  mean  time  the  summer  was  spent  by 
me  agreeably  enough,  and  I  found  no  difficulty  in 
disposing  of  the  long  days  of  that  Northern  lati- 
tude. A  few  hours  of  the  early  morning  were 
ample  for  my  lectures  and  studies;  and  I  had 
abundant  leisure  for  a  thorough  investigation  of 
every  street,  nook,  and  corner  of  the  picturesque 
old  city  in  which  I  had  taken  up  my  abode,  and 
all  its  interesting  neighborhood. 

C5  O 

I  was  sufficiently  well-read  to  appreciate  the 
historical,  romantic,  and  personal  associations  in 
which  Edinburgh  is  so  rich.  The  halo  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott's  genius,  which  was  then  in  its  ef- 
fulgence, had  thrown  such  a  brightness  over  the 
old  town,  that  every  spot  it  touched  seemed  to 
me  to  have  as  much  of  the  clearness  of  reality  as 
the  most  authentic  scene  of  history,  and  I  traced 
the  humble  steps  of  Jeannie  Deans  with  the  same 
assurance  of  faith  as  the  stately  progress  of  the 
beautiful  Queen  Mary.  The  memories  of  beau- 
ty, passion,  guilt,  and  suffering  were  as  distinctly 
awakened  by  the  sight  of  Tolbooth  Church  and 


76  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

the  Parliament  House  as  by  Holyrood  Palace 
and  the  chapel ;  and  certainly  it  was  no  more 
difficult  to  hear  the  "  piercing  shriek"  of  poor 
Effie  Deans  among  the  echoes  of  the  old  "  close," 
or  square,  than  to  see  the  blood  of  David  Rizzio 
on  the  stained  floor  of  the  royal  bedchamber. 

The  old  town  was  full  of  interest  to  me,  and 
day  after  day  I  paced  its  steep  and  winding 
streets,  lingered  about  its  irregular  squares,  and 
peered  into  its  grimy  closes.  My  favorite  walk 
was  along  the  High  Street,  from  the  craggy 
heights  of  the  Castle  through  every  turn  of  its 
tortuous  and  precipitous  course  between  walls  of 
towering  and  impending  structures — whose  jag- 
ged outlines  and  uneven  surfaces  looked,  iu  the 
deep  shade  they  threw,  not  unlike  the  steep  and 
rugged  banks  of  some  mountain-torrent — down 
to  Holyrood  Palace  and  the  low  and  level  ex- 
panse of  meadow -land  which  stretches  around 
and  beyond,  and  finally  rises  into  those  remarka- 
ble eminences,  Salisbury  Crag  and  Arthur's  Seat. 

Every  house  and  each  step  of  ground  have 
their  historical  or  romantic  associations  so  blend- 
ed as  to  be  difficult  of  distinction  ;  and  as  I  saun- 
tered along  in  their  contemplation,  I  seemed  to 
be  in  a  confused  dream  of  fact  and  fiction.  I 
must  confess,  however,  that  my  memory  was 
more  quick  to  respond  to  the  gentle  hints  of  fan- 


THE    HIGH    STREET.  77 

cy  than  to  the  blunt  reminders  of  truth.  Heed- 
less of  all  that  Scottish  history  might  tell  me 
of  authentic  sieges  and  defences,  I  recollect  that 
the  old  Castle  only  suggested  to  me  the  desper- 
ate struggle  described  by  the  writer  of  a  romance. 
As  I  gazed  upon  the  Grassmarket,  the  steep  and 
crooked  Bow,  the  Tolbooth  Church,  and  the  Par- 
liament House,  I  was  recurring  to  the  pages  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott's  "  Heart  of  Midlothian,"  and 
not  to  the  annals  of  Scotland ;  in  my  attempts  to 
revive  the  past,  and  for  what  I  could  recollect  of 
the  Porteous  mob  and  its  ill-fated  victim,  I  was 
more  indebted  to  the  novelist  than  historian.  In 
fact,  I  should  have  probably  cared  little  to  look 
upon  Bow  or  Grassmarket,  and  thought  no  more 
of  Porteous  than  any  other  fellow  who  had  been 
strangled  by  the  hangman's  noose,  if  Scott's  mag- 
ic touch  had  not  painted  scene  and  character  on 
my  memory. 

There  was  one  association  which  required  no 
art  of  the  romancer  to  call  to  the  mind.  Trust- 
ing to  my  senses,  I  might  have  well  dispensed 
with  my  recollection  of  Smollett's  graphic  ac- 
count in  "Humphry  Clinker"  of  the  foul  habits 
of  the  denizens  of  the  High  Street ;  for  the  pass- 
er-by, as  of  old,  was  still  startled  by  the  cry  of 
"  gardy  loo  "  (garclez  Veau],  and  forced  to  dodge, 
as  best  he  might,  the  oft-repeated  torrents  of  filth 


78  MY    COLLEGE    DAYSV 

from  the  windows  of  the  many-storied  houses 
impending  over  his  head. 

I  left  nothing  unseen  or  unvisited.  I  stared 
,'ig.iin  and  again  at  the  old  Tolbooth  Church, 
which,  with  its  grimy  walls,  heavy  square  tower, 
and  iron-barred  gates  and  windows,  seemed  to 
me  no  less  sombre  than  must  have  been  its  for- 
mer neighbor,  the  Tolbooth  Jail,  in  spite  of  its 
light  crown-topped  spire,  and  the  merry  succes- 
sion of  tunes  chimed  by  its  bells  at  the  noonday 
hour.  I,  of  course,  knew  well  the  little  old  house 
at  the  corner,  with  its  projecting  upper  story, 
and  painted  effigies  of  John  Knox  holding  forth 
from  his  pulpit.  I  was  equally  familiar  with 
the  imposing  residence  of  the  regent  Murray, 
and  every  other  structure  in  the  street  to  which 
either  history,  romance,  or  tradition  had  hung  a 
tale. 

I  went  every  Sund'ay  to  the  little  English 
chapel  in  Carubber's  Close,  on  account  of  its 
nearness  to  my  residence,  and  was  well  pleased 
to  hear  that  it  was  the  place  where  Alison,  the 
author  of  the  work  on  "Taste,"  had  held  forth 
in  his  choice  Addisonian  style  every  week  half  a 
century  before,  and  no  less  charmed  to  discover 
that  the  devout,  bald-headed,  sturdy  little  man 
on  his  knees  by  my  side  was  Mackay  the  actor, 
the  representative  of  the  Baillie  Nicol  Jarvie  of 


HISTORY    AND    ROMANCE.  79 

the  stage,  and  the  close  friend  of  the  author  of 
"  Rob  Roy." 

I  was  often  within  the  deserted  courts  of  Holy- 
rood,  and  treading  in  the  steps  of  Darnley  and 
his  conspirators  from  the  chapel — a  lovely  ruin, 
reverentially  wrapped  in  ivy — up  the  few  narrow 
winding  steps  into  the  bedchamber  of  Queen 
Mary,  where  Rizzio  was  rudely  torn  from  the 
protecting  embrace  of  his  royal  mistress,  and 
slaughtered  at  her  feet. 

From  Holyrood  I  often  wandered  beyond,  past 
Mushat's  Cairn,  where  Jcanie  Deans  held  the 
nocturnal  rendezvous  with  her  sister's  seducer, 
past  the  ruins  of  St.  Anthony's  Chapel,  close  by, 
to  which  the  ready-witted  woman  pointed,  and 
thus  secured  the  escape  of  her  companion  from 
arrest,  and  herself  from  brutality  at  the  hands 
of  the  villanous  Ratcliffe ;  and  going  around  and 
above  the  cliffs  of  Salisbury  Crag,  I  would  de- 
scend into  the  green  meadows  of  St.  Leonards, 
where  I  could  place,  at  the  caprice  of  my  fan- 
cy, the  cottage  of  the  Deans  or  the  croft  of  the 
Dumbiedykes. 

At  other  times  I  would  ascend  Arthur's  Seat, 
which  lies  crouching  like  a  colossal  lion  in  guar- 
dianship of  the  city,  and  from  its  summit  take 
in  that  unequalled  view  of  city,  country,  sea, 
and  mountains.  There  was  the  gray  old  town, 


80  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

with  all  its  picturesque  irregularities  of  width 
and  height;  the  Pcntland  and  Grampian  Hills, 
on  which  "my  father  feeds  his  flock,  a  frugal 
swain ;"  the  Frith  of  Forth,  and  the  sea-beaten 
Ailsa  Crag;  all  varying  every  moment  to  the 
sight  with  the  shifting  lights  and  shades  of  that 
unsettled  climate. 

A  favorite  walk  of  mine  was  through  the  long, 
straight  avenues  in  the  "  Meadows,"  passing  on 
my  way  Heriot's  Hospital,  a  beautiful  Gothic 
structure,  the  founder  of  which  is  said  to  be  the 
original  of  King  James's  goldsmith,  in  Scott's 
"Fortunes  of  Nigel,"  to  the  pleasant,  airy,  rolling 
ground  of  the  "Links."  Here  I  would  follow  for 
hours  the  earnest  golfers,  or  stand  staring  at  the 
convent  close  by,  where,  within  its  high  walls,  bar- 
red gates  and  windows,  was  immured  a  full  bevy 
of  nuns.  I  wondered  how  this  piece  of  the  oc- 
cult mechanism  of  the  Roman  Church  could  ever 
have  been  established  within  the  sound  of  the  old 
bells  of  the  Tron,  and  in  out-spoken  Presbyterian 
Scotland. 

Turn  where  I  might,  both  in  the  old  and  new 
town,  as  the  ancient  and  modern  parts  of  the  city 
of  Edinburgh  are  called,  I  had  not  far  to  go  to 

O  7  O 

find  places  of  interest  from  their  association  with 
notable  personages  and  events.  The  site  itself 
of  the  stately  structure  of  the  University  was 


A    LIST    OF    WORTHIES.  81 

that  of  the  lonely  house,  the  Kirk  o'  Field,  where 
Darnley  was  left  on  his  sick-bed  after  a  traitor- 
ous kiss  by  his  queen,  a  few  hours  before  that 
fatal  midnight  when  an  awful  explosion  shook 
the  whole  city,  "  and  the  burghers  rushed  out 
from  the  gates  to  find  the  house  of  Kirk  o'  Field 
destroyed,  and  Darnley's  body  dead  beside  the 
ruins,  though  '  with  no  sign  of  fire  on  it.' "  Both- 
well  certainly  did  the  deed ;  for  he  looked  upon, 
and  directed  his  servants  as  they  laid  the  pow- 
der beneath  the  royal  bedchamber;  and  who  can 
doubt  that  Mary  was  an  accomplice,  if  not  the 
instigator  of  the  crime  ? 

To  name  the  great  men  in  science,  literature, 
or  public  affairs  who  are  associated  with  the  his- 
tory of  the  University,  either  as  teachers  or  stu- 
dents, would  be  almost  like  calling  the  British 
roll  of  fame.  In  the  profession  of  which  I  was 
a  humble  student,  what  a  list  of  worthies  from 
Cullen  to  Thompson  !  In  science,  from  Black  to 
Christison  !  In  philosophy,  Reid,  Dugald  Stew- 
art, Brown,  and  Sir  William  Hamilton  !  In  lit- 
erature, Hume,  Robertson,  Blair,  Goldsmith,  Mac- 
kenzie, Jeffrey,  Scott,  and  Wilson !  In  theology, 
Chalmers  !  In  public  affairs,  Brougham,  Mack- 
intosh, Homer,  and  Lord  John  Russell !  and  a 
host  of  others  in  every  department  of  intellect- 
ual pursuit. 

6 


82  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Contrasts. — Hume's  Monument. — Ambrose's. — Scott's  and 
Hume's  Houses. — Jeffrey  at  Home  and  at  Court. — Mur- 
chiston.  —  Hawthornden.  — Dr.  Chalmers.  — Gtithrie. — A 
Visit  from  Dr.  Hawks. — His  Companion. — Sydney  Smith. 
— Surgeon's  Square.  —  Burke  and  Hare.  —  Dr.  Knox. — 
Allen  Thompson. — "Never  Touched  the  Ground." — Por- 
trait of  Knox. — De  Quincey  and  his  Daughter. — Macau- 
lay. — Dr.  Abercrombie. 

MY  researches  carried  rae  into  strangely  op- 
posite places.  I  was  one  day  meditating  among 
the  tombs  in  a  church -yard,  and  on  the  next 
regaling  myself,  and  making  merry  in  a  tavern. 
Now  I  was  contemplating  Hume's  monument,  a 
huge,  ugly,  round  structure  of  masonry,  which 
looked  so  unlike  any  of  the  surrounding  Chris- 
tian memorials  in  the  old  burial-place  on  the  Cal- 
ton  Hill,  that  I  thought  it  must  be  a  tool-house, 
or  anything,  in  fact,  but  what  it  was,  until  I  no- 
ticed the  simple  inscription : 

DAVID  HUME, 

BORN  1711;  DIED  1776. 

"Leaving  it  to  posterity  to  add  the  rest." 


LORD   JEFFREY.  83 

Then  I  was  eating  a  chop,  and  drinking  a  pot 
of  "half-and-half  "  in  Ambrose's  eating-house — a 
humble  establishment  enough,  up  a  narrow  pas- 
sage-way leading  from  Princes  Street  (close  by, as 
far  as  I  recollect)  to  the  Register  House.  Chris- 
topher North,  Tickler,  and  the  Shepherd  may 
have  occasionally  met,  and  eaten  a  broiled  bone, 
and  mixed  their  toddies  in  one  of  Ambrose's 
alcoves ;  but  few,  if  any,  such  "  Noctes  Ambro- 
sianae "  as  we  read  of  in  Slackicood  were  passed 
by  them  in  the  place.  The  title  was  probably 
assumed  from  the  name  of  the  proprietor  lend- 
ing itself  so  happily  to  the  Latin  adjective,  and 
suggesting  the  word  "Ambrosial,"  supposed  to 
be  particularly  appropriate  as  applied  to  such 
god-like  feasts  of  reason  and  flow  of  soul. 

I  hunted  out  every  house  where  a  distinguish- 
ed man  was  born  or  lived,  and  discovered  Sir 
Walter  Scott's  homes  in  the  old  and  new  towns, 
and  the  sceptical  Hume's  residence  in  St.  David's 
Street.  I  walked  out  as  far  as  Craig-crook,  the 
pretty  villa  where  Jeffrey,  with  his  American 
wife  (formerly  Miss  Wilkes  of  New  York),  lived 
an  equable  and  happy  existence,  and  tracked  him 
to  his  seat  of  justice  in  the  Parliament  House. 
Here  I  often  peeped  through  the  green  curtain 
which  hung  before  his  contracted  judicial  stall, 
and  watched  the  wondrous  little  man  unravelling, 


84  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

in  his  quick,  impatient  way,  the  tangle  of  Scotch 
law.  His  restless  person  was  in  a  state  of  per- 
petual movement;  his  eyes  turning  here,  there, 
and  everywhere;  his  features  in  constant  play; 
his  forehead  rippling  in  quick  successive  wrin- 
kles, as  if  striving  to  throw  off  his  close-fitting 
judicial  wig,  which  seemed  to  grasp  his  diminu- 
tive head  painfully,  almost  down  to  his  eyebrows, 
and  with  its  great  stiff  curls  of  white  horse-hair 
heavily  to  oppress  him  with  its  weight.  His 
arms,  too,  he  was  ever  moving  with  an  uneasy 
action,  thrusting  them  out,  and  shaking  them,  as 
if  he  would  rid  himself  of  the  encumbrance  of 
his  official  robe  of  scarlet,  which  covered  his 
shoulders  and  hung  in  loose  folds  from  his  neck 
to  his  wrists. 

Murchiston  Castle  came  often  within  my  ob- 
servation, for  it  was  quite  near — a  modern  Goth- 
ic structure  in  the  suburbs  of  Edinburgh,  the  for- 
mer residence  of  Napier,  the  inventor  of  the  loga- 
rithms, and  the  ancestor  of  the  present  Lord  Na- 
pier and  Murchiston,  formerly  the  English  minis- 
ter plenipotentiary  to  the  United  States.  It  was 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  at  a  gentleman's  man- 
sion, which  had  resulted  in  an  ugly  jail-like  build- 
ing, which  was  then  used  as  school-house. 

I  extended  my  walk  sometimes  as  far  as  Haw- 
thornden,  a  flourishing-looking  country-seat  with 


THE    GREAT    PREACHERS.  85 

a  park  of  lordly  extent,  and  an  ancient  mansion, 
where  the  poet  Drummond  had  lived  and  re- 
ceived Ben  Jonson  on  his  memorable  visit,  when 
he  walked  the  whole  way  from  London.  Near 
by  was  the  beautiful  ruin  of  Roslyn  Chapel, 
which,  of  course,  I  did  not  fail  to  inspect.  There 
was  another  fine  ruin  much  nearer  Edinburgh — 
Craigmillar — each  stone  of  whose  broken  arches 
and  crumbling  walls  I  was  as  familiar  with  as 
the  threshold  of  my  own  door. 

I  went  to  hear  the  great  preachers.  Dr.  Chal- 
mers was  then  professor  of  the  University,  and 
had  no  parish  of  his  own,  but  occasionally  held 
forth  at  a  small  church  at  Liberton,  I  think  it 
was  called,  in  the  suburbs  of  Edinburgh,  and  here 
I  was  one  of  the  large  crowd  which  thronged  in 
and  about  the  contracted  building.  Not  very 
familiar  with  the  Scotch  brogue  which  Chalmers 
spoke,  of  the  rudest  Glasgow  kind,  and  finding 
it  not  only  difficult  to  understand  but  painful  to 
listen  to,  I  was  little  disposed,  at  first,  to  give 
much  heed  to  his  sermon.  His  appearance  and 
manner  in  the  pulpit,  moreover,  were  by  no  means 
attractive.  His  face  and  features  were  coarse 
and  large;  his  lank  gray  hair  fell  carelessly  about 
a  narrow  forehead,  and  he  kept  his  head  bent, 
and  his  blinking  eyes  close  to  his  manuscript; 
while  his  only  action  was  an  up  and  down  or 


86  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

sawing  movement  with  his  right  arm,  from  the 
elbow.  In  spite  of  all  these  personal  disadvan- 
tages, which,  at  the  beginning,  were  very  repul- 
sive to  me,  I  was  soon  so  interested  in  his  fer- 
vid utterances,  and  absorbed  by  the  quick  alter- 
nations of  emotion  with  which  my  feelings  re- 
sponded to  his  earnest  appeals,  that  I  unresist- 
ingly yielded  to  the  torrent  of  his  eloquence. 
The  man,  in  the  mean  time,  seemed  transfigured, 
and  my  tearful  eyes  saw,  as  it  were  through  a 
sacred  halo,  the  prophet  or  apostle. 

Dr.  Guthrie  was  at  Grayf  riar's  Church,  I  think, 
and  was  already,  although  he  had  not  been  long 
in  Edinburgh,  regarded  as  one  of  its  notable  men. 
It  was  strange  to  observe  how  this  tall,  gaunt, 
broad-shouldered  man,  with  the  physical  strength 
of  a  Hercules,  would  thrill  with  emotion  as  he 
recalled  the  wretchedness  of  vice,  and  suffering 
of  poverty,  and  to  what  tender  accents  he  toned 
his  rude  Scotch  dialect,  as  he  appealed  to  the 
sympathy  of  his  listeners.  He  had,  besides,  ex- 
ceedingly graphic  powers  of  description ;  and 
Wilkie,  with  his  brush  and  colors,  could  not  have 
produced  a  more  distinct  and  impressive  picture 
of  the  humble  life  of  Scotland  than  Guthrie,  with 
his  fervid  words  and  glowing  imagination,  did  of 
the  lowly  scenes  of  his  experience  in  the  grimy 
closes  and  wynds  of  the  old  town  of  Edinburgh. 


AX   AMERICAN   VISITOR.  87 

My  fellow-passenger  across  the  Atlantic,  Dr. 
Hawks,  in  the  course  of  his  tour  came  to  Edin- 
burgh, and  was  glad  to  avail  himself  of  my  guid- 
ance, and  complimented  me  on  the  fulness  of  my 
knowledge  of  the  various  places  and  associations 
of  interest  in  and  about  the  city.  He  was  as 
ready  to  follow  as  I  was  to  guide,  and  as  will- 
ing to  listen  as  I  to  discourse.  Not  so,  however, 
his -companion — a  reverend  gentleman  like  him- 
self— who  was  then  a  prominent  clergyman  of 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  New  York; 
subsequently  a  Catholic  priest;  and  now  again  is, 
or  was  when  last  I  heard  of  him,  of  his  original 
creed.  He  seemed  to  regard  all  our  talk  about 
the  old  town  and  its  associations  as  a  great  bore, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  get  him  out  of  the  snug 
parlor  of  the  Royal  Hotel,  or  beyond  Princes 
Street  or  South  Bridge,  where  he  passed  much 
of  his  time  with  his  nose  flattened  against  the 
plate-glass  of  the  shop-windows,  contemplating, 
in  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  the  brilliancy  of  their 
displays.  He  was  especially  enamored  of  the 
Scotch  stuffs,  and  bought  whole  pieces  of  vel- 
vet, and  rolls  of  ribbon  of  the  plaid  of  a  clan  to 
which  he  professed  to  belong ;  and  in  whose  an- 
nals, traditions,  associations,  and  especially  cos- 
tume, his  entire  interest,  as  far  as  Scotland  was 
concerned,  seemed  absorbed. 


88  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

Dr.  Hawks,  during  his  stay  in  London,  had  met 
Sydney  Smith,  and  brought  away  with  him  some 
reminiscences  of  the  talk  characteristic  of  that 
witty  divine,  which  he  narrated  with  humorous 
appreciation.  I  knew  Buccleugh  Place,  in  an 
eighth  or  ninth  flat  of  which  Jeffrey  once  had 
his  elevated  residence,  and  where  he,  Brougham, 
and  Sydney  Smith,  happening  to  meet,  the  last 
proposed  to  set  up  a  Review.  This  was  acceded 
to,  although  the  motto  proposed  by  Smith,  Te- 
Kiui  musam  meditamur  avend — "We  cultivate 
literature  on  a  little  oatmeal" — being  too  near 
the  truth,  was  not  admitted.  Sydney  Smith,  as 
a  long  resident  of  Edinburgh,  and  first  proposer 
and  editor  of  its  famous  Review,  seems  thus  as 
much  one  of  the  celebrities  of  the  Scotch  me- 
tropolis as  of  London.  Reminiscences  of  him, 
therefore,  fall  naturally  into  any  description  of 
Edinburgh.  I  wisli  that  I  could  reproduce  the 
words  and  manner  with  which  Dr.  Hawks,  in  re- 
calling, gave  expression  to  them.  Sydney  Smith 
asked  the  Doctor  to  what  extent  he  thought  a 
stranger  of  good  appearance,  but  of  no  pecun- 
iary means  whatsoever,  could  get  into  debt  in 
London?  He  answered  the  question  at  once 
himself,  by  estimating  the  amount  at  forty  thou- 
sand pounds;  and  went  on  by  describing  how 
such  a  person — a  Major  Sharper,  for  example — 


SYDNEY    SMITH  S    TALK.  89 

might  proceed :  going  to  the  best  hotel  on  arri- 
val; renting  a  handsome  house,  subsequently,  on 
the  strength  of  the  respectability  of  his  hotel; 
obtaining  the  furniture  on  the  credit  of  the  im- 
posing appearance  and  genteel  position  of  his 
mansion;  establishing  an  account  with  butcher, 
baker,  grocer,  wine-merchant,  fruiterer,  and  huck- 
sterer  without  difficulty,  on  no  other  basis  than 
his  flourishing  style  of  living ;  and  so  on,  using 
one  roguery  as  the  foundation  for  another,  until 
finally,  after  exhausting  his  own  ingenuity  of  de- 
vice, or  the  credulity  of  the  tradesmen,  making 
his  escape  from  the  toppling  structure  of  fraud 
he  had  raised,  and  leaving  to  his  creditors  the 
debt  of  forty  thousand  pounds  to  be  divided  pro 
rata  among  them. 

Another  subject  of  the  witty  dean's  conversa- 
tion was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wainwright,  subsequently 
the  Bishop  of  New  York,  who  was  at  that  time 
in  England.  His  aspirations  to  ecclesiastical  dis- 
tinction were  well  known  to  his  intimate  acquaint- 
ances in  New  York;  but  Sydney  Smith — who  had 
met  him  casually,  once  or  twice  only,  in  London 
society — seems  with  wonderful  acuteness  to  have 
discerned  at  first  sight  the  ruling  desire  of  the 
ambitious  divine,  which  was,  in  fact,  to  be  a  bish> 
op.  After  dwelling  upon  the  excessive  priestly 
unction  and  manner  of  Dr.  "Wainwright,  his  punc- 


90  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

tilious  attention  to  the  minutest  detail  of  all  the 
varieties  of  clerical  costume,  and  his  fond  fre- 
quentation  of  the  society  of  ecclesiastical  digni- 
taries, the  witty  dean  concluded,  "And,  -would 
you  believe  it?  it  is  said  (lowering  his  voice  to  a 
whisper)  that  he  has  been  seen  trying  on  a  bish- 
op's  apron  before  his  looking-glass  f"  Dr.  Hawks 
went  to  hear  Sydney  Smith  preach  at  St.  Paul's, 
but  heard  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  the  old  Bible  com- 
mentator, instead ;  for  it  was  one  of  his  sermons 
that  the  clever  but  not  over-scrupulous  divine 
delivered  as  his  own. 

Attendance  upon  Dr.  Sharpey's  course  of  Prac- 
tical Anatomy  took  me  daily  to  Surgeon's  Square, 
which  opened  just  opposite  to  the  University,  and 
terminated  in  a  cut  de  sac,  within  which  were 
the  Royal  Medical  Society  building,  and  most  of 
the  private  lecture  and  dissecting  rooms.  Among 
these  was  the  hall  of  Dr.  Knox.  It  was  the  largest 
in  the  whole  Square,  and,  but  a  few  years  before, 
it  daily  filled  to  overflowing;  for  the  doctor,  not 
only  as  a  popular  demonstrator  but  as  the  pro- 
prietor of  a  well-supplied  dissecting-room,  at  a 
time  when  dead  bodies  for  anatomical  purposes 
were  scarce,  commended  himself  to  students  from 
every  quarter,  of  whom  he  had  the  most  numer- 
ous class  in  Europe.  When,  however,  I  first  went 
to  Edinburgh,  Knox,  though  he  had  lost  none  of 


HORRID    MERCHANDISE.  91 

his  characteristic  energy  or  skill  as  a  ready 
lecturer  and  clear  demonstrator,  held  forth  to 
almost  empty  benches,  the  scattered  students 
upon  which  hardly  amounted  to  the  average  of 
a  score. 

The  doctor,  notwithstanding,  had  by  no  means 
become  any  less,  but,  in  fact,  much  more  of  a 
celebrity.  He  was  far  better  and  wider  known 
than  ever.  His  reputation  had  extended  beyond 
the  precincts  of  the  colleges  to  the  extremities 
of  the  civilized  world  ;  and  his  name  was  now  no 
longer  uttered  with  praise  by  medical  students 
everywhere — who  at  most  were  but  few  —  but 
with  detestation  by  all  mankind. 

The  cause  was  evident,  for  Dr.  Knox  was  the 
anatomical  lecturer  who  had  received  and  paid 
for  all  the  dead  bodies  of  those  whom  Burke 
and  Hare  and  their  confederates  had  murdered  ! 
His  flourishing  dissecting-room  in  Surgeon's 
Square  was  the  market  whence  arose  the  de- 
mand that  created  the  supply  for  the  horrid 
merchandise,  of  which  those  bloody  ruffians  took 
care  that  there  should  be  always  an  abundant 
stock  on  hand. 

Dr.  Allen  Thompson,  now  the  eminent  Profes- 
sor of  Physiology  in  the  University  of  Glasgow, 
whose  acquaintance  I  made  soon  after  my  first 
arrival  in  Edinburgh — upon  the  question,  which 


92  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

was  then  a  frequent  topic  of  discussion,  coming 
up,  as  to  the  extent  of  Dr.  Knox's  connivance — 
told  me  that  he  was  his  student  at  the  time  of 
the  murders;  and  one  morning,  on  entering  the 
dissecting-room,  Knox  met  him  in  an  unusually 
gleeful  mood,  and  leading  him  to  a  table,  threw 
off  the  sheet  and  disclosed  a  fresh  body,  saying, 
at  the  same  time,  with  that  peculiar  puckering 
of  the  mouth  characteristic  of  him  whenever  he 
was  pleased,  like  a  man  gloating  over  something 
good  to  eat,  "Never  touched  the  ground/  Nev- 
er touched  the  ground!"  He  thus  repeated  the 
phrase  over  and  over  again,  evidently  wishing  it 
to  be  well  understood  by  his  listener  that  the 
subject  before  them  was  not  one  of  those  ordi- 
nary bodies  which  had  been  disinterred,  as  such 
were  the  only  kind  usually  to  be  obtained  at  that 
time ;  for,  previous  to  Burke  and  Hare,  no  one 
had  ventured  to  murder  the  living,  though  there 
were  many  who  were  ready  to  steal  the  dead,  in 
order  to  supply  the  dissecting-room  with  its  nec- 
essary material. 

Knox  was  tried  and  acquitted  of  all  complici- 
ty ;  and  his  lawyer,  whom  I  knew  well,  told  me 
that  he  was  firmly  persuaded  that  his  client  was 
guiltless  of  any  connivance  whatsoever  with  the 
dreadful  crime  of  Burke  and  Hare.  Dr.  Knox, 
however,  remained  under  a  cloud  of  suspicion 


POKTRAIT    OF    KNOX.  93 

and  obloquy  to  the  end  of  his  life.  Finding  his 
school  in  Edinburgh  deserted,  he  was  forced  to 
seek  a  livelihood  elsewhere.  He  passed  the  re- 
mainder of  his  days  as  a  literary  vagrant — now 
holdins:  forth  as  an  itinerant  lecturer,  and  again 

O  *  O 

scribbling  here  and  there  as  a  hack  writer  for 
the  publishers  and  newspaper  proprietors. 

Knox  was  a  man  of  a  most  villanous  aspect. 
His  face  was  corrugated  all  over  with  deep  scars 
of  the  small-pox,  and  he  had  a  leer  or  squint  of 
one  of  his  eyes  which  drew  up  the  whole  cheek, 
which  was  further  deformed  by  a  puckering  of 
the  mouth,  habitual  to  him.  He  had  a  squat, 
coarse  person,  the  ugliness  of  which  was  made 
more  noticeable  by  his  vulgar,  dressy  costume, 
consisting  of  a  shiny  silk  hat,  a  green  Newmar- 
ket cutaway  coat  with  brass  buttons,  a  full  over- 
lapping striped  waistcoat,  and  a  flashy  red  neck- 
erchief. He  had  the  look  of  a  fictitious  sporting 
character,  such  as  may  be  seen  enacting  the  part 
of  a  decoy  at  the  thimblerig  stand  on  a  race- 
course. He  was  an  eager,  bustling  person,  seem- 
ing always  on  the  alert  for  business. 

I  often  met  De  Quincey  in  my  walks,  general- 
ly, I  recollect,  in  the  open  meadow-land  near  the 
Palace  of  Holyrood,  which  was  included  in  what 
is  known  as  the  "  Liberties "  or  Jail  Limits,  to 
which  the  freedom  of  debtors  was  restricted. 


94  MY    COLLEGE   DAYS. 

He  was  a  little,  meagre,  sharp-eyed  old  man. 
His  daughter  was  his  constant  companion — a 
ruddy,  pretty-faced  young  woman  of  about  the 
height  of  her  diminutive  father. 

I  did  not  know,  but  I  daily  saw  in  the  streets 
of  Edinburgh,  Dr.  Abercrombie,  the  author  of  the 
once  popular  books,  "  Intellectual  Powers  "  and 
"Moral  Feelings."  His  practice  as  a  physician 
was  enormous,  and  kept  him  ever  on  the  go. 
His  carriage  was  to  be  seen  at  every  hour  from 
early  morning  to  late  at  night,  as  he  drove  over 
the  whole  circuit  of  the  city.  He  was  so  absorb- 
ed in  the  practical  duties  of  his  profession  that 
he  had  never  a  moment  to  spare  for  any  society 
but  that  of  his  numerous  patients,  and  he  barely 
found  time  even  for  the  pursuit  of  his  favorite 
studies.  Whenever  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
busy  doctor,  he  was  poring  intently  over  some 
book,  which  I  never  saw  him  without  during  the 
many  years  I  was  familiar  with  his  person.  He 
stood  his  hard  work  well,  for  his  full  rotund  body 
and  cheerful,  ruddy  face  were  indications  of  sat- 
isfied ease  and  happy  contentment. 

Macaulay  I  once  saw  on  the  hustings  in  the 
High  Street,  and,  showing  himself  in  the  "nap- 
less vesture  of  humility"  to  the  people,  heard 
him  "beg  their  stinking  breaths."  I  did  not 
recognize  in  him  then  the  great  man  he  after- 


1TACAULAY.  95 

ward  proved  to  be;  and  there  was  nothing  in 
his  heavy  manner  and  puny  voice  to  tempt  me 
to  linger  among  the  throng  of  his  dirty  and  tur- 
bulent supporters,  and  endure  their  rough  elbow- 
ing and  noisome  presence. 


96  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

My  First  Invitation. — A  Jolly  Dinner. — Edinburgh  Conviv- 
iality.— A  Surprise. — Religious  Topics. — J.  Shank  More. 
— Edinburgh  Society. — A  Disputed  Child. — Mr.  Craig. — 
Bishop  Ravenscroft.  —  From  Slave-whip  to  Crosier. — A 
Change  of  Quarters. — Mr.  Ainslie. — A  Friend  of  Burns. — 
Clarinda. — A  Genial  Neighbor. — Marriage  at  Three-score- 
and-ten. — A  Festival. — Campbell  the  Poet  in  the  Chair. — 
Genius  in  Eclipse. — Professor  Blackie  in  Youth. 

HAVING  delivered  ray  letters  of  introduction, 

I  received  my  first  invitation  from  Mr.  F ,  a 

flourishing  wine-merchant,  and  one  of  the  wealth- 
iest and  most  influential  of  the  burghers  of  Ed- 
inburgh. He  was  then,  or  had  been  shortly  be- 
fore, the  Lord  Provost  or  Mayor  of  the  city.  He 
had  a  handsome  villa  in  Newington,  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  old  town,  showily  furnished,  where 
he  entertained  most  liberally.  His  wife  was  a 
charming,  intellectual  person — a  dark  brunette, 
with  black  piercing  eyes,  full  flowing  hair  of  the 
same  color,  and  the  regularly-cut  features  of  a 
handsome  Italian,  though  she  was  a  Scotswoman. 
Her  husband  was  of  the  extreme  opposite  type 
— a  sandy- haired,  blue-eyed, light- complexioned 


FIRST    DINNER    IN    EDINBURGH.  97 

Scot.  Both  of  them  were  the  most  genial,  kind- 
hearted  people  in  the  world,  and  to  their  friend- 
ship and  generous  hospitality  I  was  indebted  for 
many  of  the  pleasantest  hours  of  my  stay  in 
Edinburgh. 

My  first  dinner  at  their  house  was  on  the  an- 
niversary of  their  wedding-day.  It  was  a  jovial 
occasion.  The  guests  were  magnates  and  offi- 
cials of  the  town,  and,  as  hearty  feeders  and  deep 
drinkers,  sustained  the  traditional  reputation  of 
the  civic  dignitary.  I  had  heard  a  good  deal  of 
the  convivial  habits  of  the  Scotch  folk  generally, 
and  of  the  old  Edinburgh  burghers  in  particular; 
but  at  the  same  time  I  was  led  to  believe  that,  a 
great  reformation  having  taken  place,  the  gener- 
ation I  was  among,  if  not  absolutely  abstemious, 
was  comparatively  temperate.  If  what  I  wit- 
nessed was  temperance,  what  could  have  been 
the  excess  of  a  former  time  ? 

After  the  soup  every  one,  of  course,  drank  off 
his  bumper  of  sherry  or  madeira ;  and  after  the 
fish  no  one,  equally  of  course,  refused  his  full 
liqueur-glass  of  raw  whiskey;  for  " whiskey," 
every  one  exclaimed,  as  he  gulped  it  down,  "  is 
Scotch  for  salmon" — a  standing  joke  of  the  na- 
tive unfathomable  kind.  Then  began  the  wine 
"  taking,"  as  it  was  termed,  which  was  continued 
with  great  briskness  throughout  the  whole  din- 
7 


98  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

ner,  but  greater  still  during  the  intervals  between 
the  courses.  The  host  first  pledged  the  lady  on 
his  right  in  a  bumper,  and  then  every  other  lady 
in  succession,  saying  to  each, "Mrs., "or "Miss," 
or  whatever  might  be  the  title,  "  shall  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  a  glass  of  wine  Avith  you?"  Next, 
each  gentleman,  in  turn,  pledged  the  hostess, 
repeating  the  same  formula  of  words,  "  Shall  I 
have,"  etc. ;  then  took  wine  with  the  ladies  on 
each  side  of  him. 

Now  the  host  went  through  with  the  same 
ceremony  with  all  the  gentlemen,  who  afterward 
repeated  it  to  each  other,  every  one  filling  his 
glass  afresh  whenever  he  asked  or  was  asked  to 
take  wine.  On  this  set  occasion  two  or  three 
bottles  of  champagne  were,  in  addition,  distrib- 
uted by  the  servants  among  all  the  guests.  Thus 
a  good  deal  of  wine,  and  strong  wine  too,  was 
drunk  during  the  many  and  prolonged  courses 
of  the  dinner. 

All  this,  however,  was  regarded  as  purely  pre- 
liminary, and  so  trifling  as  hardly  worthy  of  com- 
putation in  the  quantity  of  wine  consumed  on 
the  occasion.  It  was  only  when  the  table-cloth 
was  removed,  and  the  mahogany  was  left  bare, 
that  the  serious  drinking  began.  Fresh  glasses 
by  the  half-dozen  were  set  before  each  guest,  and 
a  row  of  tall  decanters  and  claret-pitchers,  full  to 


LIVELY    DRINKING.  99 

their  stoppers,  were  arrayed  in  front  of  the  host, 
who  took  care  to  keep  them  in  brisk  circula- 
tion. 

After  one  or  two  rounds  the  ladies  were  bow- 
ed out  of  the  room,  and  the  gentlemen  set  to 
work  in  earnest.  The  host,  never  forgetful  of 
his  duty  as  the  moving  force,  was  always  quick 
to  start  the  decanters  and  to  keep  them  in  brisk 
circulation,  by  stirring  up  every  dilatory  member 
of  the  company  with  the  reminder,  "  Now,  Mr. 
Smith,  the  bottle  is  with  you!"  or, "  Mr.  Jones, 
your  glass  is  empty;  fill  up, and  pass  the  wine!" 
or,  "  Brown,  my  good  fellow,  your  neighbor  is 
thirsty  ;  pass  the  claret,  please  !"  This  went  on 
for  hour  after  hour,  the  company  in  the  mean 
time  frequently  emptying  the  decanters,  which 
were  replenished  again  and  again.  On  this  oc- 
casion, in  addition  to  the  usual  decanters  and 
wine-pitchers,  a  magnum  of  port  —  an  immense 
bottle,  of  the  capacity  of  a  gallon — was  brought 
in  in  honor  of  the  wedding  anniversary,  and  be- 
ing soon  whirled  into  the  general  orbit  of  the 
smaller  satellites  of  Bacchus,  kept  revolving  un- 
til it  too,  like  them,  was  lost  in  vacuity. 

When  sherry,  pale,  brown,  and  golden ;  port, 
old,  dry,  and  crusty;  madeira,  sweet  and  mel- 
lo\v ;  claret,  delicate  and  full-bodied,  failed  any 
longer  to  stimulate  the  jaded  tongue  or  titillate 


100  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

the  palled  palate,  the  whiskey-bottles,  the  boil- 
ing tea-kettle,  the  sugar-bowl,  the  glasses  and 
ladles  were  called  for,  and  the  more  pungent  tod- 
dy again  awakened  the  thirst  of  the  wine-sated 
revellers. 

The  door  of  the  dining-room  was  now  lock- 
ed ;  and  mindful  of  the  stories  I  had  heard  of  the 
practice  of  Scotch  convivialists,  I  feared  that  I 
was  destined,  in  common  with  my  companions, 
to  fall,  and  pass  the  night  under  the  table.  I 
was,  however,  soon  relieved  from  my  alarm  when 
our  host,  opening  a  compartment  in  the  side- 
board, disclosed  to  our  view  an  indispensable  ar- 
ticle of  convenience,  ordinarily  found  nowadays 
shut  up  in  a  table  de  nuit,  or  hidden  under  a 
bed.  It  was  a  welcome  sight  to  the  saturated 
company. 

I  did  not  know  then  how  we  managed  to  as- 
scend  the  many  stairs,  and  face  the  ladies  in  the 
drawing-room,  after  this  prolonged  debauch- 
ery, so  I  can  hardly  be  expected  to  remember 
now. 

However  deep  in  his  potations,  the  Scotchman 
has  always  a  sober  thought  and  word  for  relig- 
ious matters.  The  Church,  or  rather  the  Kirk, 
always  a  topic  of  talk  of  oppressive  prevalence 
to  the  uninterested  stranger  in  Scotland,  was  em- 
phatically so  at  this  time,  and  here  at  my  friend's 


THE    AUCHTERADER    CASE.  101 

dinner-table,  as  everywhere  else,  the  Auchterader 
case,*  as  it  was  termed,  was  discussed  in  all  its 
wearisome  details. 

Another  family  to  whose  intimacy  I  was  free- 
ly admitted  was  that  of  J.  Shank  More,  and  to 
them  and  himself  I  was  indebted  for  many  kind 
hospitalities.  Mr.  More  was  an  eminent  advo- 
cate of  Edinburgh,  and  lived,  with  his  wife,  two 
grown-up  sons,  and  several  daughters,  in  a  hand- 
some residence  in  Great  King  Street.  I  met  the 
best  of  company  at  their  house,  chiefly  the  dis- 
tinguished professional  men  of  Edinburgh  and 
their  families.  Dr.  Chalmers  and  other  promi- 
nent clergymen  of  the  Established  Church  of 
Scotland ;  an  occasional  law  lord ;  a  military  of- 

*  The  Auchterader  was  the  crucial  case  which  led  to  the 
disruption  of  the  Scotch  Established  Church,  and  to  the  sep- 
aration and  organization  of  that  important  ecclesiastical  body 
now  known  as  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland.  The  patron 
of  the  Auchterader  living  had,  notwithstanding  the  protest 
of  the  parishioners,  insisted  upon  forcing  the  minister  of  his 
choice  upon  the  parish.  Thence  arose  the  cry  of  non-intru- 
sion, as  it  was  termed,  and  the  appeal  to  the  courts  for  a  re- 
versal of  the  appointment.  After  several  years  of  passionate 
discussion,  which  agitated  the  religious  sentiment  of  Scotland 
as  it  had  not  been  since  the  persecution  of  the  Covenanters, 
the  action  of  the  patron  was  finally  confirmed,  and  the  non- 
intrusionists,  funning  far  the  larger  portion  of  its  lay  and 
clerical  force,  seceded  from  the  Established  Church. 


102  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

ficer  from  the  Castle  or  the  barracks;  a  goodly 
number  of  advocates  and  physicians;  a  chance 
country  "  laird  and  his  leddy ;"  and  now  and  then 
a  merchant  or  manufacturer  from  Glasgow,  were 
the  staple  guests  at  the  table  of  Mr.  More,  to  which 
I  was  often  invited. 

Mr.  More,  though  the  son  of  a  dissenting  min- 
ister of  the  most  liberal  political  views,  was  him- 
self a  staunch  member  of  the  established  Church 
of  Scotland,  and  a  confirmed  Tory.  Such,  how- 
ever, was  the  sweetness  of  his  temper,  that  it  was 
proof  against  even  the  bitterness  of  Edinburgh's 
political  partisanship ;  and  Mr.  More  was  beloved 
alike  by  Churchman  and  Dissenter,  Whig  and 
Tory.  It  was  universally  admitted  that  he  was 
destined  to  h'll  the  first  vacancy  on  the  bench  in 
the  gift  of  his  party  whenever  it  might  be  in 
power.  He,  however,  never  became  a  law  lord, 
but  ended  his  long  and  honorable  career  as  pro- 
fessor, in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  of  Scotcli 
law — a  department  of  his  profession  in  which  he 
was  acknowledged  to  be  pre-eminent. 

One  of  Mr.  Move's  daughters  married  an  Eng- 
lish officer,  and  went  to  India  with  him.  She 
soon  died  there,  leaving  an  only  child — a  little 
girl  of  three  years  of  age — who  was  sent  to  Ed- 
inburgh, and  placed  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  More.  They  doted  upon  the  child  with 


A    STOLEN    CHILD.  103 

more  than  the  characteristic  fondness  of  grand- 
parents. Mr.  More,  especially,  delighted  in  pet- 
ting and  caressing  the  little  girl,  and  during  his 
rare  moments  of  leisure  seemed  never  contented 
without  her  companionship.  At  dinner-time — 
it  mattered  not  who  were  his  guests — he  always 
sent  for  his  little  "Ailsie,"  saying,  as  soon  as  the 
cloth  was  removed,  "  Come,  we  must  have  the 
Scotchman's  dessert !"  and  as  she  came  in  run- 
ning to  his  arms,  he  would  snatch  her  up,  give 
her  a  fond  hug  and  a  kiss,  and  place  her  upon 
the  dining-table,  where  she  was  left  awhile  tod- 
dling about  on  the  slippery  mahogany,  to  be  ad- 
mired by  the  surrounding  guests,  while  the  grand- 
father regarded  her  with  eyes  sparkling  with 
pride  and  delight. 

The  little  girl's  father,  in  the  mean  time,  mar- 
ried again,  when  a  question  arose  between  his 
parents  and  the  Mores  as  to  who  should  have 
the  charge  of  the  child.  The  Mores  would  listen 
to  no  proposition  which  would  deprive  them  of 
the  little  Ailsie,  to  whom  they  clung  with  all  the 
fibres  of  their  hearts.  Her  other  grand-parents, 
though  fortified  with  the  permission  of  her  own 
father,  failing  to  obtain  the  little  girl  by  any  fail- 
means,  resorted  to  foul ;  and,  lying  in  wait  one 
day,  with  a  carriage  at  hand,  snatched  her  from 
the  side  of  her  nurse  in  the  street,  and  drove  off 


104  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

with  her,  never  to  be  seen  again  by  the  broken- 
hearted Mores. 

There  was  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Craig, 
to  whom  I  was  also  indebted  for  many  kind- 
nesses. His  wife  was  sister  of  Ravenscroft,  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Bishop  of  North  Carolina; 
and  this  close  association  with  the  United  States 
made  him  and  his  family  always  ready  to  extend 
a  warm  welcome  to  every  American,  and  I  re- 
ceived the  full  benefit  in  many  generous  hospi- 
talities of  this  friendly  bias  toward  my  country- 
men. Bishop  Ravenscroft  was  a  Scotchman  by 
birth,  and  had  wandered  away,  in  his  youth,  from 
his  Presbyterian  home  in  Scotland,  carrying  with 
him,  as  a  ne'er  do  weel,  the  saddest  forebodings 

f  *  O 

of  his  future  fate.  After  many  vicissitudes  of 
fortune — sinking  at  one  time  even  so  low  as  to 
wield  the  whip  of  a  negro -driver  or  overseer 
over  the  backs  of  a  gang  of  crouching  slaves— he 
finally  bloomed  forth  in  all  the  sacred  fulness  of 
Episcopal  lawn,  as  a  distinguished  prelate  of  the 
Church.  It  may  be  suspected,  however,  notwith- 
standing his  unquestionable  eminence  as  an  ec- 
clesiastical dignitary  in  the  United  States,  that 
his  Presbyterian  friends  in  Scotland  rather  re- 
garded his  prelatical  elevation  as  a  fulfilment 
of  their  prophecy  of  the  evil  end  to  which  they 
had  predestined  the  unpromising  lad.  Mr.  Craig 


A    FRIEND    OF    BURNS.  105 

told  me  that  he  had  found,  in  the  published  col- 
lection of  Bishop  Ravenscroft's  writings,  two  un- 
acknowledged sermons  by  divines  of  repute,  but 
whose  names  I  have  forgotten. 

Driven  away  from  Dr.  Y—  -  by  the*  anarchy 
and  turbulence  of  his  domestic  establishment,  I 
was  soon  comfortably  domiciled  in  snug  quar- 
ters in  the  lodgings  in  Graham  Street,  kept  by 
a  buxom,  canny  Scotchwoman,  of  the  name  of 
Muuro.  Next  door  to  us  lived  a  very  old  gen- 
tleman—  a  Mr.  Ainslie.  He  had  been  a  writer 
to  the  signet,  or  solicitor  and  attorney  of  some 
mark  in  his  prime ;  but  his  chief  distinction  came 
from  the  fact  of  his  having  been  in  his  youth  an 
intimate  friend  of  Burns,  the  poet,  of  \vhom,  no 
doubt,  he  had  a  great  deal  to  say,  but  I  can  recall 
little  of  what  I  heard  from  him. 

He  used,  I  know,  to  defend  warmly  the  memo- 
ry of  the  poet,  and  declare  that  the  ordinary  im- 
pression of  his  irregular  habits  was  a  greatly  ex- 
aggerated one,  saying  that  he  was  no  worse  than 
most  young  men  of  his  day,  and  that  he  had  an 
ardent  sentiment,  as  we  may  well  believe, of  virtue 
and  piety. 

Ainslie  himself,  in  his  old  age  at  least,  was  a 
very  religious  man.  He  was  the  author  of  a  lit- 
tle devotional  book, "The  Reasons  of  the  Faith 
that  is  in  Us,"  or  some  such  title — a  work  which 


106  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

was  very  popular,  and  has  given  much  consola- 
tion to  pious  people  of  the  evangelical  sort. 

In  all  the  biographies  of  Burns,  Ainslie's  name 
is  mentioned  ;  and  some  of  the  letters  addressed 
to  him  by  the  poet  are  given,  which,  as  far  as  I 
recollect,  are  of  a  kind  which  indicate  that  their 
sympathies  were  of  a  more  worldly  character 
than  the  pious  old  gentleman  would  have  had  me 
believe.  Mr.  Ainslie,  in  the  occasional  visits  he 
received  from  a  Mrs.  McLahose,  kept  up  his  old 
associations  with  Burns ;  for  she  was  one  of  the 
survivors  of  the  numerous  claimants  to  be  a 
Highland  Mary,  or  some  other  bonnie  Scotch  las- 
sie,* who  had  the  honor  of  having  had  in  her 
youth  the  poet  for  an  admirer,  and  minstrel  of 
her  beaux  yeux.  She  was  a  very  old  little  wom- 
an of  more  than  fourscore  years,  with  an  arti- 
ficial front  of  hair  to  conceal  her  baldness,  gray 

*  Mrs.  McLahose  was  the  Clarinda,  I  believe,  to  whom 
these  verses  were  addressed: 

"We  part — but,  by  those  precious  drops 

That  fill  thy  lovely  eyes ! 
No  other  light  shall  guide  my  steps 
Till  thy  bright  beams  arise. 

"  She,  the  fair  sun  of  all  her  sex, 
Has  blessed  my  glorious  day ; 
And  shall  a  glimmering  planet  fix 
My  worship  to  its  ray  ?" 


THE  POET  CAMPBELL  IX  THE  CHAIR.    107 

eyebrows  masked  in  dye,  and  her  once  "lovely 
eyes  "  hid  behind  a  pair  of  goggles. 

Our  landlady  made  herself  a  very  genial  neigh- 
bor to  the  forlorn  old  bachelor  next  door,  for  he 
had  patiently  endured  his  threescore  years  and 
ten  or  more  in  solitude ;  but  at  last,  before  he 
was  many  months  older,  he  found  Mrs.  Munro 
and  her  consoling  possets,  and  other  delicate  at- 
tentions, irresistible,  and  married  her.  I  suspect 
that  the  canny  Scotchwoman  was  prudently  alive 
to  the  fact  of  Mr.  Ainslie's  enjoyment  of  a  snug- 
pension  from  the  society  of  the  Writers  to  the 
Signet  of  Edinburgh,  and  of  its  reversion  to  his 
widow. 

The  old  gentleman  was  fond  of  keeping  up  his 
associations  with  literature  and  literary  men,  and 
took  every  opportunity  of  taking  a  part  in  any 
public  manifestation  of  which  they  were  the 
object.  There  was  a  printers'  festival  of  some 
kind,  at  which  Thomas  Campbell  had  promised 
to  preside.  Mr.  Ainslie,  who  had  taken  a-  ticket, 
urged  me  to  take  one,  too,  which  I  did  gladly, 
eager  to  see  the  famous  poet,  and  expecting  a 
great  gathering  of  all  that  were  notable  for  gen- 
ius and  talent  in  Edinburgh. 

We  went,  and  found  the  printers  in  full  force, 
ranged  on  each  side  of  long  wooden  tables  or 
narrow  deal  boards  on  trestles,  facing  little  black 


108  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

bottles  of  sherry-wine,  and  plates  of  "  cookies," 
and  almonds,  and  raisins ;  for  these  were  all  the 
material  refreshments  we  had  in  exchange  for 
our  payment  of  five  shillings  each. 

There  was  not  a  distinguished  personage  to  be 
pointed  out  to  me,  much  to  the  disappointment 
of  my  venerable  companion,  and  especially  of  my- 
self, until  the  poet  himself  came,  or  rather  was 
brought,  for  he  was  accompanied  by  two  per- 
sons, each  of  whom  seemed  to  be  holding  on  to 
an  arm,  and  lifting  him  to  his  place.  As  soon  as 
his  chair  on  the  dais  was  reached,  he  sunk  down 
in  it,  and  there  remained  like  a  log  the  whole 
evening,  giving  no  heed,  apparently,  to  any  per- 
son or  thing,  except  to  the  black  bottles  before 
him.  He  may  possibly  have  made  a  few  inco- 
herent attempts  to  speak,  but  there  was  no  intel- 
ligible speech  from  him ;  and,  as  far  as  I  recol- 
lect, the  whole  festival  collapsed  into  a  free-and- 
easy  chat  and  private  pledging  of  healths,  which 
the  printers  had  all  to  themselves,  striving  to  be 
as  merry  as  they  could  under  the  sad  constraint 
of  the  presence  of  the  great  genius  in  his  eclipse. 

On  the  appointment  of  Dr.  Sharpey  to  a  pro- 
fessorship in  the  London  University,  I  attend- 
ed the  anatomical  lectures  of  his  successor,  Dr. 
Handyside,  and  was  occasionally  a  guest  at  his 
house.  At  an  evening  party  to  which  he  invited 


PROFESSOR   BLACKIE    IN    YOUTH.  109 

me  I  met  Blackie,  the  present  eminent  Professor 
of  Greek  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  He 
was  then  a  very  young  man,  just  fresh  from  the 
German  Universities.  All  regarded  him  as  an 
eccentric  genius,  and  he  gave  us  proof  at  least  of 
the  odd  side  of  his  character.  He  went  striding 
about  the  room,  with  his  long  black  hair  stream- 
ing down  to  his  shoulders,  and  his  arms  moving 
with  all  sorts  of  strange  gesticulations,  bawling 
out  German  songs,  and  declaiming  German  verses. 
As  he  strode  backward  and  forward,  with  his  lit- 
tle meagre  body  all  in  commotion,  and  his  voice 
hoarse  with  his  recitations  in  a  language  unintel- 
ligible to  any  person  present,  he  seemed  to  be  a 
man  possessed,  and  caused,  evidently,  great  con- 
sternation among  the  ladies,  who  anxiously  drew 
in  their  skirts,  and  shrunk  behind  the  gentlemen. 


110  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Winter  Session. — Rush  of  Students. — The  Classes. — 
Students  from  Everywhere. — The  Full-blooded  Negro. — 
Social  Inversion. — Distinguished  Students. — W —  -  of 

Nottingham. — G of  Newcastle. — Charles  Maitland. — 

Faith  in  Chemistry. — Samuel  Brown. — Poet  and  Philoso- 
pher.— Unity  of  Matter. — Professor  Anderson  of  Glasgow. 

THERE  was  an  interval,  no  doubt,  between  the 
close  of  the  summer  and  opening  of  the  winter 
session  of  the  University,  but  I  do  not  recollect 
how  long  it  was,  and  in  what  way  I  passed  it. 

With  the  beginning  of  the  winter  or  regular 
session  of  six  months,  the  attendance  upon  which 
alone  was  obligatory,  there  was  a  great  rush  of 
students  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  but  chiefly 
from  Scotland.  The  heavy  gates  of  the  Univer- 
sity building  were  thrown  wide  open,  and  through 
them  thronged,  at  every  hour  of  the  day,  large 
crowds  of  youth,  filling  the  wide  quadrangle,  be- 
fore so  deserted,  and,  as  they  rushed  in  and  out 
of  the  lecture-rooms,  making  the  stone  walls  echo 
with  the  hum  of  their  voices  and  the  pattering 
of  their  feet.  The  number  attending  the  vari- 
ous departments  of  study  must  have  been  near- 


STUDENT   LORDS.  Ill 

ly  two  thousand,  of  whom  seven  or  eight  hundred 
were  medical  students. 

The  "  Humanity "  classes,  as  the  Greek  and 
Latin  were  termed,  were  principally  composed 
of  Scotch  youth — mostly  a  set  of  rough,  rustic, 
shabbily -dressed  lads,  with  the  true  grit,  how- 
ever, of  patient  perseverance  and  hardy  endur- 
ance of  sons  of  the  manse,  farm-house,  counter 
and  shop,  from  the  small  towns  and  rural  dis- 
tricts. Among  them  was  a  small  scattering — ea- 
sily distinguished  by  a  more  dapper  dress  and 
manner — of  city -bred  scions  of  landed  gentry 
and  professional  gentlemen. 

The  philosophical  classes  were  mainly  of  the 
same ;  though  the  lingering  tradition  of  the  fame 
of  old  teachers  like  Reid  and  Dugald  Stewart, 
and  the  increasing  renown  of  the  Professor  of 
Logic  and  Metaphysics,  Sir  William  Hamilton, 
attracted  other  students  from  England  and  vari- 
ous parts  of  Europe.  There  were  several  of  the 
English  aristocracy  among  them;  a  Lord  Al- 
tamont,  son  of  the  Marquis  of  Sligo,  and  two 
young  men  of  rank  of  the  name  of  Paget,  I  can 
only  recollect,  though,  no  doubt,  there  were  oth- 
ers. Times,  however,  had  greatly  changed  since 
those  days  when  no  aspiring  young  English 
statesman — of  Whig  proclivities,  at  any  rate — 
regarded  his  preparation  for  public  life  complete 


112  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

without  a  session  or  so  at  the  University  of  Ed- 
inburgh; and  Lords  Dudley  and  Webb  Sey- 
mour, the  Homers,  and  Lord  John  Russell  en- 
rolled themselves  as  pupils  of  that  eloquent  and 
suggestive  teacher,  the  refined  and  philosophical 
Dugald  Stewart. 

The  medical  classes,  though  still  numerously 
attended,  had  no  longer  the  reputation  of  the 
days  of  the  two  elder  Munros  and  the  Gregorys, 
when  students  came  in  crowds  from  the  extrem- 
ities of  the  civilized  world  to  witness  their  clear 
and  accurate  demonstrations,  and  through  their 
convincing  deductions  learn  the  truths  of  the 
healing  art. 

There  were,  however,  still  among  the  medical 
students  a  few  from  the  remote  parts  of  the 
earth.  I  myself,  from  distant  New  York,  was  a 
proof  of  the  fact  that  was  self-evident ;  and  there 
was  another  obvious  to  all — a  full-blooded  negro 
from  St.  Domingo.  I  looked  upon  him  with  es- 
pecial wonder,  for  I  had  come  from  a  land. where 
creatures  of  his  color  were  regarded  as  mere 
beasts  of  burden,  to  be  bought,  sold,  and  ex- 
changed as  chattels,  and  if  not  incapable  of  ed- 
ucation, deemed  unworthy  of  it;  and  to  behold 
this  coal-black  fellow  holding  up  his  head  as 
high  as  the  best  of  us — much  higher,  in  fact,  than 
most,  for  he  was  very  proud  in  his  bearing,  and 


NEGRO    STUDENTS.  113 

self-conscious  of  his  importance,  as  the  son  and 
heir  of  some  Duke  of  Marmalade,  Marquis  of 
Pineapple,  or  Baron  Mango  of  his  native  land, 
was  a  shock  to  my  then  obscured  sense  of  the 
proprieties.  He  had  a  white  valet  in  livery  al- 
ways at  his  heels — a  curious  inversion,  as  it  then 
seemed  to  me,  of  the  social  order — and  if  he 
kicked  repeatedly,  and  otherwise  ill-treated  him, 
as  he  was  said  to  have  done,  the  poor  wretch 
was  only  suffering  vicariously  for  the  wrongs 
and  cruelties  inflicted  by  his  own  race  upon  that 
of  his  master. 

I  recollect  that  there  was  a  student  of  African 
blood  at  the  college  in  Hartford,  Connecticut, 
under  very  different  circumstances  of  respect 
from  our  negro  comrade  at  the  University  of 
Edinburgh.  He  was  a  modest,  bright  mulatto, 
who  by  some  academic  artifice  or  other  was  sup- 
posed to  be  pursuing  his  studies  at  the  college, 
though  he  never  made  his  appearance  in  any  of 
the  classes.  He  used  to  come  out  at  night,  and 
at  night  only,  from  the  back  door  and  stairs  of 
a  house  of  one  of  the  professors  near  by,  with 
whom  he  was  probably  picking  up  some  surrep- 
titious scraps  of  learning.  Although  he  passed 
many  years  in  the  collegiate  neighborhood,  took 
his  degree,  and  finally,  I  think,  became  a  clergy- 
man of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  he  nev- 
8 


114  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

er  exchanged  a  single  word  with  any  of  the  stu- 
dents, or  ventured  to  show  himself  except  in  the 
shades  of  the  evening.  We  had  no  more  fel- 
lowship with  him  than  if  he  had  been  a  gorilla 
of  his  aboriginal  wilds,  and  we  deigned  only  to 
cast  a  glance  of  suspicion  at  the  poor  fellow 
whenever  we  caught  a  rare  sight  of  his  shrink- 
ing shadow. 

There  were  a  good  many  roisterers  among 
the  students ;  but  it  must  be  acknowledged  that, 
though  convivial  habits  were  far  too  prevalent, 
the  great  majority  of  my  comrades  at  the  Uni- 
versity fairly  carried  out  their  purposes  of  study. 
There  were  several  young  men  whom  I  knew, 
who  showed  a  remarkable  zeal  for  scientific  pur- 
suit, and  some  of  them  rose  subsequently  to  dis- 
tinction. Dr.  Carpenter,  the  author  of  the  "  Phys- 
iology," and  professor  in  the  University  of  Lon- 
don, was  my  fellow-student;  so  was  Reid, also  a 
professor,  and  famous  for  his  physiological  re- 
searches ;  and  Day,  the  Chemist ;  and  Wilson,  the 
Professor  of  Technology;  and  Forbes,  the  Pro- 
fessor of  Natural  History ;  and  Brown,  the  au- 
thor of  "  Rab  and  his  Friends."  These  all  gave 
promise,  even  while  students,  of  the  eminence  to 
which  they  subsequently  reached.  There  were 
others,  however,  of  whom  equally  high,  if  not 
higher,  hopes  were  entertained,  but  who  failed  to 


A    SUCCESSFUL   STUDENT.  115 

accomplish  the  lofty  aims  of  their  youth ;  some 
from  the  inevitable  fiat  of  fate,  but  more,  alas ! 
in  consequence  of  their  self-chosen  and  perverse 
ways  of  life. 

W ,  of  Nottingham,  gave  such  proofs  of 

power  while  a  student  in  Edinburgh,  that  it  was 
thought  by  all  who  knew  him  there  was  nothing 
in  the  world  worth  having  that  he  was  not  ca- 
pable of  acquiring.  I  hardly  ever  saw  him  in  a 
lecture -room,  but  he  always  passed  his  exami- 
nations with  great  credit,  and  won  all  the  prizes 
for  which  he  competed.  He  read  the  best  pa- 
pers, and  was  the  ablest  debater  of  the  Royal 
Medical  Society,  of  which  he  became  president. 
He  was  a  tall,  raw-boned,  bold-faced  fellow,  with 
short,  bristly  hair,  a  broad,  knotty  forehead,  and 
flaming  black  eye ;  and  with  his  general  defiant 
air,  and  the  habit  he  had  of  turning  up  the  cuffs 
of  his  coat-sleeves,  seemed  always  as  if  he  were 
ready  for  a  set-to  with  the  whole  world. 

After  taking  his  degree,  he  married  and  set- 
tled in  a  large  provincial  town  in  England,  where 
he  was  appointed  professor  of  the  Medical  Col- 
lege, and  continued  those  medico -chemical  re- 
searches to  which  he  was  ardently  devoted.  Al- 
ready recognized  and  quoted  everywhere  as  an 
authority  in  science,  he  promised  to  obtain  a 
place  among  the  highest  on  the  roll  of  English 


116  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

worthies,  when  the  brilliant  genius  was  suddenly 
obscured,  and  finally  lost  forever  in  the  self-in- 
flicted ruin  of  the  man.  He  had  always,  even 
while  a  student,  been  fond  of  an  occasional  con- 
vivial bout,  and  won  a  reputation  for  being  as 
deep  a  drinker  as  he  was  a  thinker.  These  hab- 
its of  his  youth,  continued  into  his  more  mature 
age,  finally  obtained  the  mastery  over  him,  and 
led  him  to  perdition. 

The  career  of  G ,  of  Newcastle,  was  an- 
other illustration  of  blasted  hopes.  He  evinced, 
while  a  student,  a  great  aptitude  for  physical 
research,  and  became  prominent  as  a  winner  of 
prizes,  and  member  of  the  Royal  Medical  Socie- 
ty. He  was  ambitious,  vain,  and  poor,  and  seem- 
ed always  to  have  an  uneasy  consciousness  of  his 
threadbare  coat,  which  made  him  very  sensitive 
to  the  proud  man's  contumely.  He  took  his  re- 
venge by  a  boastful  profession  of  extreme  rad- 
ical opinions,  and  a  defiant  bearing  toward  his 
social  superiors.  After  graduating,  he  made  a 
meteor-like  start  in  his  native  town,  but  seeking 
in  London  a  wider  field  of  display,  and  meeting 
with  disappointment,  he  was  soon  extinguished 
in  the  vortex  of  the  dark  abominations  of  the 
great  metropolis;  for,  with  all  his  unquestioned 
ability  and  lofty  aspirations,  he  was  ever  gravi- 
tating toward  the  lowest  vice. 


A    GENIUS.  117 

Charles  Maitland,  of  Brighton,  impressed  me 
more  than  any  other  of  my  Edinburgh  comrades 
with  the  idea  of  a  genius.  He  seemed  to  know 
everything  by  intuition.  I  never  saw  him  with 
a  book  in  his  hand,  and  he  seldom  attended  a 
lecture.  He,  notwithstanding,  appeared  to  be 
well  up  in  every  subject  connected  with  his  pro- 
fession, and  always  passed  his  examinations  with 
great  credit. 

He  must,  however,  at  some  time  have  industri- 
ously pursued  analytical  chemistry,  in  which  he 
was  a  great  proficient.  While  a  student  of  Pro- 
fessor Turner,  in  London,  he  discovered  a  test  for 
morphia  (nitric  acid?),  for  which  he  is  credited 
in  the  work  of  his  teacher,  once  the  universal 
manual  of  chemistry.  He  had  quite  a  museum 
of  the  results  of  his  investigations  as  an  analyst, 
and,  among  others,  a  large  glass  bottle  full  of  su- 
gar, which  he  had  obtained  from  the  urine  of  a 
diabetic  patient.  To  show  his  faith  in  chemical 
unity,  or  his  superiority  to  all  prejudice  from  ac- 
cidental association,  or  his  unwavering  confidence 
in  his  own  skill  as  a  manipulator,  he  used,  much 
to  my  disgust,  to  take  lump  after  lump  of  this 
sugar  into  his  mouth,  and  suck  it  with  more  ap- 
parent gusto  than  if  it  had  been  a  French  bon- 
bon. To  my  protest,  and  expressions  of  horror, 
he  would  reply, "  It  is  chemically  pure — it  is  gen- 


118  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

nine  sugar — C,  H,  O  in  due  elementary  propor- 
tion as  any  other  sugar;  and,  as  it  is  that, it  does 
not  matter  whether  it  is  derived  from  a  vegeta- 
ble or  animal  secretion.  Come,  taste  it !"  I  was 
not  philosopher  enough  for  that;  and  while  I 
conceded  to  him  the  best  of  the  argument,  I  also 
yielded  to  him  the  whole  of  the  sugar. 

He  was  never  at  rest,  and  passed  most  of  his 
days  wandering  over  the  hills  and  the  mountains, 
all  alone.  He  used  always  to  carry  Avith  him, 
strapped  to  his  back,  a  portable  barometer,  nomi- 
nally for  measuring  heights,  but  I  think,  in  reali- 
ty, only  to  give  an  appearance  of  purpose  to  what 
was  nothing  more  than  a  vagrant  mood. 

Maitland  belonged  to  a  remarkable  family. 
His  father  was  one  of  four  brothers,  all  of  whom 
were  officers  of  the  English  Army,  and  fought  at 
Waterloo.  The  eldest,  Sir  Peregrine  Maitland,  a 
soldier  of  renown,  had  acquired  great  notoriety 
in  society  by  running  away  with  the  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  Richmond,  and  marrying  her.  He, 
after  undergoing  some  penance  of  supercilious 
neglect  from  his  noble  father  and  mother  in  law, 
was  finally  rewarded  for  his  audacity  in  becom- 
ing the  husband  of  a  Lenox,  by  elevation  to  a 
baronetcy,  and  a  succession  of  governorships. 

The  three  other  brothers,  among  whom  was 
my  friend's  father,  were  discharged  simultane- 


A    HETERODOX    PROFESSOR.  119 

ously  from  the  army  for  disobedience  of  orders, 
having  refused,  when  serving  as  officers  in  Mal- 
ta, to  give  the  command  of  "  Present  arms !" 
to  the  soldiers  under  them,  on  the  passing  of 
the  "Host "iu  a  procession  of  Roman  Catholics. 
They  all  became,  I  think,  clergymen  of  the  Es- 
tablished Church  of  England.  The  father  of  my 
friend,  at  any  rate,  took  orders,  and  was  well- 
known  as  the  fervid  evangelical  preacher  of 
Brighton. 

Young  Maitland,  while  in  Edinburgh,  was  very 
ardent  in  his  expression  of  devotional  sentiment, 
but  it  was  of  a  heterodox  kind ;  for  he  professed 
the  peculiar  tenets  of  one  Campbell  of  Row  (?)> 
whom,  and  some  of  his  wealthy  followers,  he  of- 
ten visited.  Pie  was  fond  of  asserting  his  be- 
lief in  what  he  called  "  assurance,"  and  used  to 
illustrate  it  by  saying  that  if  he  fell  down  dead 
on  the  instant,  he  was  sure  of  going  to  heaven 
— a  doctrine  which  the  Church  of  Scotland  pro- 
nounced heretical,  and  excommunicated  my  friend 
Maitland's  apostle  (Campbell)  for  holding. 

Maitland,  soon  after  taking  his  degree,  wrote  a 
work  on  the  catacombs  of  Rome,  which  was  well 
received  both  by  critics  and  readers.  He  has 
given  no  further  public  evidence  of  vitality.  He 
seemed  to  have  the  capacity  for  great  things,  but 
was  too  erratic  and  unsteadfast  for  the  concen- 


120  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

tratiou  of  purpose  and  continuousncss  of  effort 
necessary  to  accomplish  them. 

Samuel  Brown,  a  lineal  descendant  of  Brown 
the  metaphysician,  who  succeeded  Dugald  Stew- 
art as  Professor  of  Mental  Philosophy  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Edinburgh,  was  a  remarkable  youth. 
He  seemed  to  combine  in  his  nature  both  the 
poet  and  natural  philosopher.  He  composed 
sonnets  and  analyzed  chemical  compounds.  He 
was  a  philosophical  dreamer  as  well  as  a  practical 
experimentalist;  but  the  conceptions  of  his  fancy 
were  impatient  of  the  operations  of  his  hand. 

Brown's  dominant  idea  was  the  unity  of  mat- 
ter; and  he  announced  to  the  world  that  he  had 
found,  in  the  course  of  his  manipulations  in  the 
laboratory,  a  link  in  the  chain  of  proof  which 
could  not  fail  to  lead  to  the  establishment  of  the 
fact.  He  had  converted,  he  said,  albumen  into 
iodine,  or  iodine  into  albumen,  or  something  of 
the  kind,  and  contributed  an  elaborate  paper,  giv- 
ing all  the  details  of  his  experiments,  to  one  of 
the  scientific  journals  or  societies.  His  trustful 
friends  hailed  him  triumphantly  at  once  as  the 
apostle  of  a  new  revelation  in  science. 

Some  sceptical  chemists,  however,  among  whom 
was  Liebig,  repeated  Brown's  experiments,  and, 
finding  that  albumen  remained  albumen,  and  io- 
dine iodine,  in  spite  of  all  their  manipulations, 


A    DELUSION-.  121 

declared  that  the  world  had  been  deceived  by  a 
false  teacher.  Brown  defended  himself,  reassert- 
ing his  former  statement,  and  declaring  that  a 
repetition  of  his  experiments  had  given  precisely 
the  same  results  as  before,  showing  that  albumen 
was  iodine,  and  iodine  albumen.  Met  anew  by 
denials  and  counter-statements  of  experimental 
results,  he  still  adhered  pertinaciously  to  his  orig- 
inal assertion,  until  finally  summoned  to  give  a 
convincing  proof  of  its  truth  by  a  public  exhi- 
bition of  his  processes,  he  remained  silent,  and 
slunk  away  into  an  obscure  retirement,  no  longer 
seen  or  heard  of  but  by  a  few  personal  friends. 
He  soon  died — it  was  thought  of  a  broken  heart. 
His  friends,  who  believed  him  to  be  the  very  soul 
of  truth,  never  doubted  that  he  was  sincere  in  his 
repeated  assertions  of  the  results  of  his  experi- 
ments; but  as  they  could  not  refuse  to  accept 
the  obvious  proofs  of  their  falsity,  were  fain  to 
reconcile  their  faith  in  Brown's  veracity  with  the 
evidence  of  scientific  fact,  by  the  supposition  that 
the  imaginary  had  gained  such  a  mastery  over 
the  practical  element  of  his  character,  that  he  had 
been  made  unconsciously  the  victim  of  a  delusion. 
Brown  was,  undoubtedly,  a  youth  of  great  abil- 
ity. His  knowledge  and  practical  investigations 
of  chemistry  were  extensive.  He  was  an  elo- 
quent speaker  in  the  Speculative,  Physical,  and 


122  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

Medical  Societies,  a  clear  demonstrative  lecturer, 
and  no  contemptible  poet,  even  while  still  a  youth- 
ful student.  He  had  the  mark  of  distinction  in 
his  personal  appearance.  A  neat,  orderly  person, 
clothed  in  sober  black,  tall,  delicately  organized, 
with  a  soft,  almost  tearful,  abstracted  eye,  a  pale, 
expansive  forehead,  and  a  certain  shadowy  air  of 
remoteness  in  his  whole  manner  and  appearance, 
he  had  the  look  of  a  spiritually-minded  poet,  and 
abstract  philosopher.  He  was  respected  by  us  all, 
and  by  his  personal  friends  he  was  worshipped. 

I  must  not  forget,  while  recalling  the  embryo 
philosophers,  my  friend,  Robert  Anderson,  of 
Leith  —  a  curly,  light- haired,  blue -eyed,  ruddy- 
faced,  laughing  youth,  when  I  first  knew  him, 
and  whose  acquaintance  I  afterward  renewed 
when  he  was  a  bald-headed,  austere-looking  Pro- 
fessor of  Chemistry  in  the  University  of  Glasgow. 
He  was  already  distinguished,  while  a  student,  as 
a  skilful,  practical  chemist,  and  obtained  the  prize 
for  the  most  beautiful  specimen  I  ever  saw  of 
some  crystals  of  a  rare  and  difficult  composition 
— the  kind  and  name  of  which  I  have  forgotten — 
due  entirely  to  his  own  cunning  manipulation. 


THE    REVELLERS.  123 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  Band  of  Revellers.— Making  a  Night  of  it. — The  Two 

Brothers  R . — Their  History. — A  Mother,  and  not  a 

Mother. — A  Victim  to   Slavery. — The  Third  Brother's 

Fate. — Description  of  the  R — — 's. — The  Eldest  R . 

—A  Fancy  Ball.— The  End  of  the  Eldest.— The  Younger 

R in  Paris. — Incidents  of  his  Career. — Adventures 

in  England. — His  Return  to  the  United  States.— Disap- 
pearance. 

I  DID  not  seek  companionship  solely  among 
the  young  philosophers,  but  also,  too  frequently,! 
am  ashamed  to  be  forced  to  acknowledge,  in  the 
society  of  the  wild  roisterers  and  revellers  of  the 
University.  There  was  a  full  band  of  these  liv- 
ing together  in  the  house  of  an  old  retired  naval 
surgeon,  whose  own  habits,  formed  in  the  ward- 
room and  cockpit  aboard  ship,  during  many  a 
long  cruise  about  the  world,  were  not  of  the 
most  rigid  sort.  Most  of  these  jovial  fellows 
were  from  the  Western  world — Newfoundland, 
Nova  Scotia,  and  New  Brunswick;  and  two  of 

the  wildest,  the  brothers  R ,  were  credited  to 

my  own  portion  of  the  Continent,  being  natives 


124  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

of  New  Orleans.  I  never,  by  chance,  saw  any  of 
them  at  a  lecture  but  two,  who  were  advanced 
students,  and  working  hard  for  the  last  exami- 
nation. 

The  half-dozen  others,  including  my  two  coun- 
trymen, were  as  idle  at  their  studies  as  they  were 
busy  in  mischief  and  dissipation.  They  used  to 
sally  out  every  night  systematically  for  a  de- 
bauch, after  they  had  passed  the  whole  of  the 
day  in  sleeping  off  the  effects  of  a  previous  one. 
Sometimes  they  began  with  a  lounge  at  the  thea- 
tre, and  sometimes  with  a  match  in  the  billiard- 
room,  but  always  closed  with  a  drinking-bout  at 
the  "  Rainbow,"  or  some  other  equally  favored 
place  of  convivial  resort,  whose  patience  of  cred- 
it their  long  unpaid  scores  had  not  yet  exhaust- 
ed. They  never  went  home  till  morning,  and  not 
always  then.  Fired  with  whiskey,  they  provoked 
any  late  loiterers  like  themselves — or  early  labor- 
ers going  to  their  work — they  might  meet,  by  an 
assault  of  some  kind,  either  striking  or  hustling 
them,  or  crushing  their  hats  down  over  their 
eyes.  The  result,  of  course,  was  a  fight,  and  the 
natural  consequence,  bruised  shins  and  black  eyes 
in  abundance,  and  frequent  nights  at  the  watch- 
house.  They  all,  or  some  of  them,  at  least,  were 
never  free  from  a  very  evident  show  of  the  ef- 
fects of  these  nocturnal  collisions,  and  looked 


THE    BROTHERS   R .  125 

mostly  like  well -mauled  prize -fighters  after  a 
regular  set-to. 

The  two  young  countrymen  of  my  own,  the 

brothers  R ,  were  not  the  least  distinguished 

of  these  wild  revellers.  Their  father,  who  at  the 
time  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  wealthiest  mer- 
chants in  the  United  States,  supplied  his  sons 
with  a  most  profuse  allowance  of  money,  and,  in 
their  reckless  expenditure  of  it,  they  were  only 
following  his  own  example  of  prodigality.  He 
brought  his  boys  the  whole  way  from  Liverpool 
to  Edinburgh  in  a  post-chaise  and  four,  throwing 
away  handfuls  of  gold  on  his  right  and  left  dur- 
ing the  route,  and  installing  himself,  on  his  ar- 
rival, in  the  most  expensive  apartments  of  the 
Royal  Hotel,  where,  during  his  stay,  he  lived 
like  a  prince. 

His  sons  had  been,  for  some  time  previous  to 
coming  to  Edinburgh,  living  in  Liverpool  in  a 
handsome  residence,  under  the  charge  of  a  dai'k 
woman — a  quadroon  from  New  Orleans.  She, 
though  undoubtedly  the  mother  of  the  three 
boys  under  her  care,  was,  by  a  cruel  prohibition, 
prevented  from  making  the  fact  known  to  any 
one,  even  to  her  own  children ;  who,  being  so 
taught,  continued  to  regard  and  treat  her  always 
as  a  hired  attendant.  They  had  from  her  all  the 
care,  tenderness,  and  devotion  of  maternal  love, 


126  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

while  she,  poor  creature,  had  from  them  neither 
filial  affection  nor  even  the  acknowledgment  of 
the  name  of  mother.  She  lived  and  died  thus  be- 
reaved, and  never  ventured  to  whisper  in  words 
her  natural  claims,  though  she  vindicated  them 
hourly  by  the  perpetual  sacrifice  of  self,  even  to 
the  denial  of  her  own  personality,  to  the  sup- 
posed interests  of  her  children.  Slavery  then 
existed  in  the  United  States,  and  she,  born  a 
slave,  sold  and  bought  a  slave,  lived  in  perpet- 
ual torture,  and  died  a  victim  to  this  monstrous 
cruelty. 

The  third  son — for  there  were  three — I  never 
saw ;  but  I  heard  that  he  was  an  unmanageable 
lad.  On  running  away  from  school,  he  enlisted 
as  a  hussar  in  the  English  army.  He  went  to 
India  with  his  regiment,  and  was  never  heard  of 
again,  being  lost,  possibly,  in  the  jungle,  or  the 
jaws  of  a  tiger.  The  other  two  sons  were  my 
fellow-students  in  Edinburgh.  They  were  tall, 
well-proportioned,  good-looking  young  fellows, 
of  fair  complexions,  with  the  slightest  possible 
tint  of  brown,  and  of  long,  silky,  and  rather  light 
curly  hair.  Their  features  gave  to  the  ordinary 
observer  no  indication  of  their  African  origin 
through  their  quadroon  mother,  but  there  was  a 
dilatation  of  the  nostrils,  a  fulness  of  the  upper 
lip,  and  a  certain  heaviness  of  step,  due  to  their 


THE    FANCY    BALL.  127 

large,  spreading  feet,  which  would  have  revealed 
it  to  an  expert.  They  were  born  slaves,  and  by 
the  laws  of  their  native  State  of  Louisiana  might 
have  been  sold,  and  bought,  or  seized  for  debt,  as 
any  other  exchangeable  commodity.  They  were 
evidently,  however,  unconscious  of  any  legal  deg- 
radation, and  bore  themselves  with  as  much  grace, 
freedom,  and  independence  as  any  of  the  sons  of 
gentlemen  with  whom  they  daily  associated. 

The  eldest  was  fond  of  society,  and  frequented 
some  of  the  highest  circles  in  Edinburgh.  He 
always  dressed  in  the  height  of  fashion,  and  his 
annual  tailor's  bill  would  more  than  have  paid 
for  a  year's  support  of  some  of  the  by  no  means 
least  thriving  of  his  fellow-students.  I  accom- 
panied him,  I  recollect,  to  the  fancy  ball  at  the 
Assembly  Rooms,  where  he  made  his  appearance 
in  the  costume  of  a  courtier  of  the  time  of  Fran- 
cis the  First  of  France — slashed  velvet  doublet, 
satin  hose,  plumed  bonnet,  and  gold-hilted  sword 
complete,  the  whole  of  which  cost  him  sixty 
pounds,  or  three  hundred  dollars. 

The  fancy  ball  was  for  the  benefit  of  the  In- 
firmary, and  was  a  very  exclusive  affair.  I  did 
not  venture  to  appear  in  a  character  costume,  but 
in  a  dress  which  certainly  would  now  be  regard- 
ed as  an  eminently  fanciful  one,  although  it  was 
such  as  was  generally  worn  on  the  occasion.  My 


128  MY   COLLEGE    DAY-. 

black  dress-coat  de  rigueur  had  the  inside  of  its 
tails  lined  with  white  satin,  my  waistcoat  was 
embroidered  silk  of  divers  bright  colors,  and  I 
wore  pnmps  and  white  silk  stockings.  No  one 
could  obtain  a  ticket  of  admission  to  the  ball 
without  having  secured  a  preliminary  guarantee 
of  his  social  fitness,  in  the  form  of  a  "  voucher," 
as  it  was  termed,  of  respectability,  signed  by  a 
dozen  "  Lady  Patronesses."  Every  tradesman  of 
the  town  was  rigorously  ruled  out. 

The  expenses  of  the  eldest  R became  final- 
ly so  inordinate  that  even  his  prodigal  father  pro- 
tested against,  though  he  paid  them.  He  insist- 
ed, however,  that  he  should  leave  Edinburgh, 
which  he  accordingly  did,  and  went  to  Dublin. 
Here  he  met  his  good  angel,  in  the  form  of  the 
daughter  of  the  surgeon  with  whom  he  was  dom- 
iciled. He  fell  in  love  with  her,  and,  through  her 
influence,  devoting  himself  seriously  to  his  stud- 
ies, succeeded  in  passing  his  examination  as  a 
surgeon.  He  then  married  and  went  to  Canada 
— the  only  refuge,  at  that  time,  of  his  wronged 
race — where  he  became  a  respectable  practitioner 
of  medicine. 

The  brother  remained  in  Edinburgh,  finding, 
unfortunately,  no  kind  providence  in  sweetheart, 
wife,  or  indeed  in  any  form,  to  interpose  and 
check  his  reckless  career  of  dissipation.  I  left 


A    DISSIPATED    CAREER.  129 

him  still  lingering  at  the  University  when  I  de- 
parted, hopeful  of  a  degree,  bnt  seemingly  mak- 
ing no  efforts  to  obtain  it. 

When  I  had  been  a  year  or  more  in  Paris,  I 
met  him  accidentally,  and  he  told  me  that,  after 
several  unsuccessful  attempts,  he  had  finally  grad- 
uated. I  induced  him  to  take  up  his  quarter  in 
the  lodging-house  where  I  lived.  He  came ;  but, 
try  as  I  might,  I  could  not  prevail  upon  him  to 
reform  his  habits  of  dissipation,  for  the  indul- 
gence of  which,  with  a  more  confirmed  inclina- 
tion, he  met  in  the  French  capital  greater  facili- 
ties than  ever. 

His  father  was  no  longer  the  rich  man  of  1836 
and  1837,  for  the  mercantile  crash  of  1838  and 
1839  had  come,  and, having  overwhelmed  the  once 
flourishing  house  of  which  he  was  the  chief  part- 
ner, left  him,  on  his  escape  from  its  ruins,  noth- 
ing but  the  refuge  of  a  small  cotton  plantation  in 
Mississippi,  which  had  been  conceded  to  him  by 
the  indulgence  of  his  creditors.  He,  however, 
managed  to  allow  his  son  from  his  greatly  re- 
duced income  the  sum  of  eight  hundred  dollars 
a  year.  With  each  quarter's  remittance  came  a 
letter  of  urgent  appeal  to  a  reformation  of  life, 
and  a  reminder  of  the  limits  of  paternal  forbear- 
ance and  supply,  but  it  was  all  in  vain. 

The  young  fellow  persisted  in  his  perverse 
9 


130  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

ways,  until,  finally,  his  father,  provoked  to  extrem- 
ities, revealed  to  him  his  birth,  and  at  the  same 
time,  while  diminishing  his  allowance,  threatened 
to  cut  him  off  entirely.  The  effect  was  the  re- 
verse of  what  it  is  hoped  his  father  intended. 
The  poor  youth  cried  out  to  me  in  despair, "I 
am  a  bastard !  I  am  a  bastard !  and  I  will  de- 
stroy myself."  It  would  have  been  better,  per- 
haps, if,  in  carrying  out  his  resolution,  he  had 
swallowed  some  quick  active  poison.  He  took 
the  no  less  certain  but  slower  means  of  drinking 
himself  to  death — a  process  with  which  he  had 
been  daily  growing  more  familiar. 

On  each  quarter's  day,  as  soon  as  he  received 
his  remittance  and  exchanged  his  draft  at  the 
banker's,  he  would  cram  his  pockets  with  the 
large  silver  five-franc  pieces,  which  were  then  in 
general  currency  in.  France,  and  sally  out  to  the 
cafes  and  worse  resorts,  until  he  spent  all  to  the 
last  sou,  when  he  was  generally  brought  home  in 
a  fit  of  insensibility  from  drunkenness. 

On  one  occasion  he  stumbled  into  my  room 
when  intoxicated,  and  observing  that  his  coat, 
waistcoat,  and  all  his  other  pockets  were  cram- 
med with  five-franc  pieces,  I  emptied  them  out, 
and  locked  up  the  money  in  my  drawer.  He  did 
not  resist  in  the  least,  and  perhaps  was  totally 
unconscious  of  what  I  had  clone.  Several  weeks 


EFFECT    OF    A    REMITTANCE.  131 

afterward  I  found  him  in  a  state  of  great  discon- 
solation,  grieving  over  his  poverty,  and  telling 
me  piteously  that  his  landlady  threatened  to  put 
him  out-of-doors  if  he  did  not  immediately  pay 
her  the  last  quarter's  board.  I  bade  him  send 
for  the  woman,  and  I  would  settle  with  her. 
When  I  had  paid  the  bill,  which  amounted  to 
several  hundred  francs,  and  he  was  in  the  full 
expression  of  his  gratitude  for  my  apparent  gen- 
erosity, I  told  him  the  money  was  his  own,  and 
how  I  happened  to  possess  it.  He  could  hard- 
ly be  made  to  believe  me,  for  he  had  not  the 
least  recollection  of  my  having  taken  it  from  his 
person. 

On  another  occasion,  while  he  was  in  his  high 
jinks  just  after  having  received  a  remittance,  the 
landlady  appealed  to  me,  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  to  go  to  his  room  to  do  what  I  could 
to  allay  the  frightful  noises  which  were  issuing 
from  it.  I  no  sooner  rapped  at  the  locked  door 
and  mentioned  my  name,  for  I  was  always  a 
privileged  person  with  him,  than  I  was  let  in — 

and  such  a  sight !     My  young  friend  R ,  in 

the  full  costume  of  a  Turk,  but  "disguised"  in 
liquor  like  any  Christian,  stood  holding  on  to 
the  door  of  the  disordered  room,  where  bedding, 
bolsters,  pillows,  sheets  and  coverlets,  table  and 
chairs,  were  heaped  up  together  in  confusion, 


132  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

while  two  women,  all  bedizened  with  paint  and 
masked-ball-finery,  were  crouching  under  the  bed- 
stead, where  they  had  tried  to  hide  themselves 
on  becoming  aware  of  my  approach.  There  had 
been  a  fracas  in  consequence  of  jealousy,  or  dis- 
satisfaction of  some  kind,  and  one  of  the  females, 
in  her  fury,  had  begun  to  toss  about  the  contents 
of  the  room.  Hence  the  noise.  I  persuaded  the 
Grand  Turk  to  dismiss  his  harem,  and  the  house 
was  again  restored  to  its  habitual  quietude. 

Young  R remained  a  long  time  in  Paris, 

with  the  single  advantage  of  acquiring  a  thor- 
ough knowledge  of  the  French  tongue.  I  met 
him  several  years  afterward  in  New  York,  and 
in  such  a  state  of  flourishing  vitality  as  showed 
that  his  chosen  process  of  self-destruction  had 
been  thus  far  very  slow  in  operating.  He  gave 
me  some  account  of  the  vicissitudes  of  life  through 
which  he  had  passed  since  I  parted  with  him  in 
Paris.  Destitute  of  means,  for  his  father  had 
cut  off  his  allowance,  he  had  wandered  into  Eng- 
land, where  he  gained  a  precarious  livelihood  for 
some  time  in  teaching  French  in  a  country  town. 
Subsequently  he  had  made  the  acquaintance  of 
an  English  banker,  who  had  taken  such  a  fancy 
to  him  that  he  appointed  him  a  clerk  in  his  bank- 
ing-house. My  friend  was  in  the  full  tide  of 
prosperity, with  a  fair  hope  of  a  future  partner- 


A    TRAGEDY.  133 

ship,  when,  some  defalcation  having  occurred,  he 
became  the  object  for  a  time,  though  unjustly 
so,  as  he  told  me  and  I  sincerely  believe,  of  sus- 
picion, and  was  forced  to  leave. 

After  leaving  England,  he  paid  a  visit  to  a 
former  college  comrade  living  at  St.  Johns,  New 

Brunswick.    This  was  B ,  whom  I  knew  well, 

a   congenial   companion   of  R in  his  Avild 

moods  at  Edinburgh.     The  visit  had  a  tragic 

O  O 

termination ;  for,  during  a  sporting  expedition, 

B was    accidentally    shot,   and    fell    dead. 

R seemed  to  carry  with  him  a  malignant  in- 
fluence wherever  he  went. 

When  I  saw  him  in  New  York,  he  had  just 
returned  from  a  visit  to  his  father  on  the  plan- 
tation in  Mississippi,  where  he  found  a  cousin  in 
full  possession  of  the  favor  and  recognized  as  the 
heir-to-be  of  a  property  to  which  he  thought  he 
himself  had  the  higher  claim.  Quarrelling  with 
this  cousin,  and  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of 
his  father,  he  parted  with  them  in  anger,  and  was 
once  more  adrift  in  the  wide  world.  On  taking 
leave  of  me,  he  proposed  to  visit  his  brother  in 
Canada.  I  never  saw  or  heard  of  him  again. 


134  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Brothers  F . — An  American  Claimant  for  a  Scotch 

Title. — A  Retired  and  Happy  Life. — Sudden  Aspirations. 
— Lord  Lovat. — Devotion  of  a  Clan. — A  Long  Suit  in  Ed- 
inburgh.— Luxury  and  the  Jews. — A  Day  of  Reckoning. 
— An  Adverse  Decision. — Family  Ruin. — The  Eldest  Son. 
— The  Survivors  of  a  Wreck. — Another  American  Claim- 
ant.— Precocious  Benevolence. — A  Triumph. — Final  Re- 
sult. 

THERE  were  three  young  Americans,  the  broth- 
ers F ,  who  were  picking  up  a  miscellaneous 

education  at  the  University.  They  occasionally 
attended  the  classes,  and  always  frequented  the 
company  of  the  students.  I  made  their  acquaint- 
ance, and  through  them  that  of  their  family,  who 
were  living  at  Edinburgh. 

The  father,  if  not  a  Scotchman  by  birth,  of 
Scottish  origin,  was  a  clergyman  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church  of  the  United  States.  While  set- 
tled in  some  part  of  South  Carolina,  in  the  per- 
formance of  the  ordinary  parochial  duties  of  his 
profession,  he  was  suddenly  convinced  of  the  fea- 
sibility of  his  claim  to  the  barony  and  estate  of 
Lovat  of  Scotland,  which  had  been  escheated  on 


A    CONTENTED    PASTOK.  135 

the  execution  of  Simon,  Lord  Lovat,  for  taking 
part  with  Prince  Charles  in  the  Scotch  rebellion 
of  1746. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  F had  always  boasted  him- 
self a  lineal  descendant  of  this  famous  rebel,  but, 
notwithstanding  the  long  proclaimed  amnesty 
and  restoration  in  England  of  forfeited  titles  and 
estates,  had  hitherto  showed  no  inclination  to 
substantiate  his  pretensions,  but  seemed  content- 
ed with  the  obscure  position  of  a  rural  pastor, 
the  duties  of  which,  moreover,  he  performed  with 
fidelity,  and  to  the  full  satisfaction  of  his  humble 
charge.  He  had  married  an  American  whom  I 
knew — a  woman  still  retaining,  in  advanced  life, 
much  of  the  beauty  for  which  she  was  remarka- 
ble in  her  youth,  and  all  that  refined  amiability 
of  manner  and  character  which  ever  distinguished 
her.  With  three  promising  sons  and  two  hand- 
some daughters,  they  lived  a  simple  but  content- 
ed life,  happy  themselves,  and  with  a  fair  pros- 
pect of  future  happiness  and  prosperity  for  their 
children. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Lovat  estate  in  Inverness- 
shire,  in  Scotland — a  very  extensive  and  valuable 
property — had  been  ceded  by  the  English  Com- 
missioners or  Scotch  courts,  or  whomsoever  the 
authority  was  held,  to  a  Mr.  Fraser,  an  influential 
Catholic  gentleman,  on  his  claim  as  the  nearest 


136  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

living  descendant  of  the  executed  Simon,  Lord 
Lovat.  He,  accordingly,  was  in  the  possession 
and  full  enjoyment  of  the  estate,  and  no  one  ap- 
peared to  dispute  his  right,  not  even  the  boasted 
lineal  offshoot  in  South  Carolina.  It  is  possible 
that  the  modest  clergyman,  in  his  far  Western 
retreat,  in  happy  unconsciousness  of  amnesty  or 
restoration  of  estates,  may  have  known  nothing 
of  the  splendid  property  of  his  boasted  ances- 
tors being  in  abeyance.  At  any  rate,  the  Scotch 
Fraser  was  met  by  no  opposing  claim,  from  the 
American  at  least,  and  entered  into  the  posses- 
sion of  the  Lovat  estate  without  a  protest  from 
him. 

The  fortunate  possessor,  however,  not  content 
with  the  estate  alone,  claimed  also  the  title.  He 
failed,  however,  from  some  break  in  his  line  of 
descent,  to  satisfy  the  full  requirements  of  the 
courts  or  the  House  of  Lords,  and  his  claim  was 
rejected.  Notwithstanding  this  defeat,  he  be- 
came Lord  Lovat,  but  not  the  Lord  Lovat.  The 
Whigs  were  then  in  power,  and,  as  Mr.  Fraser  of 
Lovat  was  an  influential  adherent  of  their  party, 
they  conferred  upon  him  an  English  peerage  with 
the  same  title— Lord  Lovat — with  the  addition, 
however,  of  an  earldom,  as  he  would  have  borne 
had  he  been  successful  in  his  claim  to  the  Scotch 
barony. 


CLAIMING    AN    ESTATE.  137 

The  American  pretender  had  become  cogni- 
zant of  these  facts  by  the  chance  perusal  of  a 
paragraph  in  an  English  or  Scotch  paper,  which 
had  drifted  into  the  remote  corner  of  the  world 
where  he  lived,  or  in  some  other  hap-hazard  way, 
and  his  aspirations  to  rank  and  wealth  were 
at  once  awakened.  Convinced,  no  doubt,  of  his 
right,  and  believing  that  he  could  prove  it,  he  re- 
solved to  go  to  Scotland  without  delay,  to  prose- 
cute his  claim  to  the  Scotch  barony  and  estate  of 
Lovat.  He  accordingly,  on  the  instant,  resigned 
his  church,  severed  his  long  connection  with  his 
flock,  abandoned  the  ministry,  broke  asunder  all 
his  associations  of  friendship  and  country,  turn- 
ed what  -little  available  property  he  had  into 
ready  money,  and  embarked  with  his  wife  and 
family  for  Europe. 

His  first  visit,  on  arriving  in  Scotland,  was  to 
Inverness-shire,  where  the  Lovat  estate  lies.  Here 
he  was  received,  I  was  told,  with  great  demon- 
strations of  devotion  by  all  the  tenants  and  the 
members  of  the  clan  Fraser,  who  hailed  him  as 
the  genuine  laird,  and  accepted  him  as  their  au- 
thentic chief.  In  earlier  days,  this  intuitive  rec- 
ognition, backed  by  the  claymores  of  a  host  "of 
stalwart  Highlanders,  might  have  seated  him  in 
the  hall  of  his  fathers,  in  spite  of  any  rival  in  pos- 
session, though  sustained  by  law  and  authority. 


138  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

Times,  however,  had  changed,  and  the  pretend- 
er could  only  make  good  his  claims  through  the 
slow  and  costly  processes  of  the  legal  courts. 
He  therefore  repaired  to  Edinburgh,  where  he 
settled  with  his  family,  and  began  the  tedious 
suit  at  law  which  was  to  end,  as  he  hoped,  in 
making  him  not  only  the  possessor  of  all  the  ti- 
tles, hereditaments,  and  possessions  appertaining 
to  the  true  Lord  of  Lovat,  but  of  the  mesne  prof- 
its in  addition,  for  which  the  false  incumbent  was 
responsible. 

The  mere  preliminary  expenses  and  retainers 
to  counsel  soon  exhausted  the  small  supply  of 
funds  brought  from  America,  and  the  poor  client 
was  forced  to  have  recourse  to  the  Jews ;  and 
when  I  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  his  family, 
they  were  living  luxuriously  on  means  derived, 
it  was  said,  from  that  fatal  source. 

Year  after  year  passed  without  a  decision  of 
the  main  question,  though,  now  and  then,  some 
collateral  issues  were  settled,  which  bore  adverse- 
ly, however,  on  the  case  of  the  American  client. 
He  and  his  family  still  kept  up  a  vague  hope  of 
a  distant  accession  to  rank  and  wealth,  while  the 
approach  of  the  day  of  reckoning,  by  no  means 
so  remote,  was  sure  and  certain.  The  money- 
lenders becoming  more  and  more  extortionate, 
and  their  grudging  supplies  so  small,  that  the 


AN    ADVERSE    DECISION.  139 

claimant  found  it  difficult  to  meet  both  the  de- 
mands of  the  lawyers  and  the  requirements  of 
living  of  his  family.  They  were,  in  consequence, 
soon  reduced  to  such  straits  that  the  would-be 
Lord  Lovat  would  have  gladly  exchanged  all  his 
splendid  hopes  of  rank  and  wealth  for  the  sim- 
plest station  and  competence,  and  no  doubt  bit- 
terly regretted  his  abandonment  of  the  happy 
though  obscure  home  in  Carolina.  After  many 
years  of  wearying  expectation  and  exhausting 
expense,  there  was  a  decision  of  the  case  of 
F  -  versus  Lord  Lovat.  It  was  adverse  to 


The  ruin  of  himself  and  family  was  finally  con- 
summated. The  long-deferred  hope  had  already 
shown  its  fatal  effects.  The  wife  had  died  of  a 
broken  heart;  the  eldest  daughter,  a  beautiful  girl, 
unable,  in  the  uncertainty  of  her  position,  to  fix 
her  affections,  became  a  victim  of  disappointment, 
and  did  not  long  survive  her  mother  ;  the  third 
son,  careless  and  irregular,  met  with  an  early 
death  ;  and  the  father,  seeking  relief  from  the 
enforced  idleness  of  his  changed  position,  and 
the  depression  of  his  spirits,  induced  by  the  fre- 
quent fluctuations  of  hope  and  despair,  resorted 
to  means  which  soon  brought  his  life  to  an  ig- 
nominious close. 

The  eldest  son  was  a  youth  of  much  talent, 


140  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

and,  being  fond  of  study,  might,  if  he  had  been 
able  to  concentrate  his  attention  in  the  pursuit 
of  any  particular  profession,  have  arisen  to  dis- 
tinction. Led,  however,  from  an  early  period  of 
his  life  to  believe  that  he  was  probable  heir  to  a 
title  and  great  estate,  he  could  not  devote  him- 
self to  the  necessary  work  for  any  special  voca- 
tion of  a  humbler  life.  His  taste  for  study  was 
consequently  wasted  in  desultory  reading,  and 
his  unquestionable  abilities  were  exhausted  in 
the  mere  conversational  and  social  triumphs  of 
the  hour.  After  the  disappointment  of  his  high 
hopes  in  Scotland  he  repaired  to  New  York, 
where  I  occasionally  met  him  by  hazard,  as,  with 
increasing  poverty  and  diminishing  self-respect, 
he  was  shy  of  recognition  by  his  former  friends. 
After  occasional  glances  of  him  as  he  flitted 
round  the  corners,  or  passed  rapidly  through  the 
by-streets,  looking,  in  his  meagre  habiliments,  like 
a  fitful  ghost  of  his  former  respectability,  I  finally 
lost  sight  of  him  altogether. 

On  this  wreck  of  a  family,  there  were  two  so 
fortunate  as  to  secure  a  harbor  of  safety.  The 
second  son  studied  theology,  and,  becoming  a 
clergyman  of  the  established  Church  of  Scot- 
land, received  the  appointment  of  minister  of  the 
Scotch  Church  in  Bombay.  The  only  surviving 
daughter  married  a  young  physician,  and  went 


ANOTHER    AMERICAN    CLAIMANT.  141 

also  to  India  with  her  husband,  who  had  received 
some  good  medical  appointment  there. 

I  met  in  Edinburgh  another  American  claim- 
ant to  an  estate  in  Scotland,  Ferdinand  Campbell 
Stewart.  I  recognized  in  him  a  former  fellow- 
student  in  Philadelphia,  where  he  was  the  assist- 
ant of  the  chemical  professor,  Dr.  Hare.  Though, 
of  course,  very  familiar  with  his  looks,  I  had  had 
no  personal  acquaintance  with  him  until  first  rec- 
ognizing him  in  the  botanical  class  in  Edin- 
burgh I  became,  in  the  course  of  time,  his  inti- 
mate friend.  He  and  I  were  frequently  in  each 
other's  rooms,  dining  and  supping  together. 

Stewart  was  a  diligent  attendant  at  the  med- 
ical lectures,  though  the  principal  object  of  his 
visit  to  Edinburgh  was  business  in  connection 
Avith  the  lawsuit  he  was  then  prosecuting  in  the 
Scotch  courts.  He  had  often  his  lawyer  with 
him,  a  writer  of  the  signet ;  and  I  recollect  meet- 
ing this  gentleman  and  his  little  daughter  at  my 
friend's  chambers  one  morning  at  breakfast.  We 
had  an  abundant  supply  of  those  large  and  lus- 
cious strawberries  for  which  Edinburgh  is  fa- 
mous. I,  either  having  eaten  my  full  share  of 
them  and  had  enough,  or,  being  too  modest  to 
accept  of  more,  resisted  the  pressing  solicita- 
tions of  my  friend,  who,  however,  continued  them 
v;ith  such  urgency,  that  the  little  girl,  who  could 


142  MY   COLLEGEXDAYS. 

not  have  been  more  than  seven  or  eight  years 
old,  interposed  in  my  behalf,  saying,  in  a  very 
gentle,  compassionate  tone, "  Oh  !  dinna  press  the 
laddie."  We  all  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  much 
to  the  poor  child's  discomfiture,  at  this  preco- 
cious exhibition  of  considerate  sympathy. 

My  friend's  father  was  the  younger  son  of  a 
Scotch  laird,  and,  obliged  to  shift  for  himself,  had 
emigrated  to  the  United  States ;  and, being  a  man 
of  considerable  scientific  acquirements,  was  ap- 
pointed professor  of  chemistry  in  William  and 
Mary  College,  of  Virginia.  His  elder  brother 
had  inherited  and  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
patrimonial  estate,  Ascog,  a  handsome  property 
in  the  Isle  of  Bute.  He  married  a  widow,  with 
a  daughter  by  a  former  husband,  but  never  had 
any  children  by  her  himself.  On  the  prospect 
of  death,  during  his  last  illness  he  made  a  will 
by  which  he  bequeathed  the  estate  of  Ascog,  the 
entail  of  which  had  expired,  to  his  wife  and  her 
child. 

Without  any  direct  issue  himself,  and  without 
any  special  legal  devise  on  his  part,  the  estate 
would  have  descended  in  course  to  the  father  of 
my  friend.  This  the  brother,  the  Laird  of  As- 
cog, strove  to  prevent  by  his  will ;  but,  as  his  will 
was  executed  during  an  illness  which  resulted  in 
death,  it  became,  according  to  Scotch  law,  void 


A  SUCCESSFUL   SUITOR.  143 

and  of  no  effect.  Upon  this  ground  ray  friend's 
father  laid  his  claim,  and  instituted  proceedings 
in  the  courts  of  Edinburgh  to  establish  it.  As 
he,  however,  was  incapacitated  by  indisposition, 
caused,  it  was  said,  in  consequence  of  the  sudden 
prospect  of  wealth  on  the  death  of  his  brother, 
my  acquaintance,  his  eldest  son,  was  represent- 
ing his  interests  and  those  of  his  family  in  the 
prosecution  of  the  case. 

I  sat  by  him  when  the  decision  was  rendered 
by  the  Scotch  law-lords.  It  was  in  his  favor, 
and  he  was  so  moved  with  excitement  and  de- 
light that  I  could  hardly  hold  him  down  in  his 
seat;  in  fact, he  seemed  ready  to  leap  out  of  his 
clothes  in  the  convulsive  tumult  of  his  joy.  This 
decision,  however,  was  not  final,  for  the  defeat- 
ed defendants  appealed  to  the  House  of  Lords. 
Here,  however,  my  friend  again  triumphed.  Stew- 
art, subsequently,  lived  and  practised  his  profes- 
sion as  a  doctor  with  success  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  while  at  the  same  time  he  seemed  to  be  in 
the  enjoyment  of  the  means  of  a  man  of  fortune, 
the  proceeds,  no  doubt,  of  the  Scotch  estate  for 
which  he  had  been  a  successful  suitor. 


144  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

General  Disunion  of  Students. — A  Remarkable  Exception. 
— Political  Unanimity. — Prevalence  of  Toryism. — Influ- 
ence of  Tory  Professors.  —  Professor  Wilson's  Example 
and  Teachings. — Royal  Medical  Society. — Its  Traditions. 
— Sir  James  Mackintosh. — The  Brunonian  Controversy. 
• — Speculative  Society. — Botanical  and  Geological  Tours. 
— Exercises. — New  Haven. — Huntsmen  and  Horsemen. — 
The  Theatre. — Church  Intolerance.— Studies  for  a  De- 
gree.— Examinations. — Defence  of  Thesis. — An  Exami- 
nation Passed. — The  Three  Munros. 

THE  students  were  scattered  all  about  the  town, 
generally  living  in  private  lodgings — many,  no 
doubt,  very  scantily  provided  for  in  lofty  quar- 
ters and  with  low  diet,  perched  eight  or  nine  flats 
high,  and  cultivating  literature  on  the  tenui  ave- 
nd — the  little  oat-meal  of  Sydney  Smith.  They 
only  met  together  in  large  numbers  while  attend- 
ing the  classes,  and  then  divided  into  sections, 
according  to  their  studies,  and  for  no  more  than 
an  hour  at  a  time,  at  different  periods  of  the  day. 

The  students  did  not,  therefore,  form  a  very 
homogeneous  body,  and  I  cannot  recall  but  one 
occasion  when  they  were  united  together  in  the 


ENTHUSIASM    EXHIBITED.  145 

manifestation  of  a  common  sentiment  or  motive. 
This,  curiously  enough,  was  for  an  object  quite 
remote  from  all  academic  interests,  and  of  a  kind 
which  would  have  hardly  been  thought  to  move 
at  all,  and  much  less  with  any  unanimity,  hun- 
dreds of  youth  socially  and  nationally  so  diverse. 
They  met  together  in  full  force  to  protest  against 
some  measure  of  the  Whig  ministry. 

There  was  hardly  a  single  student  absent  from 
the  gathering,  and  the  speeches  and  resolutions 
were  received  with  a  demonstration  of  enthusi- 
asm of  which  the  voice  and  muscles  of  robust 
youth  are  alone  capable.  My  countryman,  the 

elder  F ,  presided  on  the  occasion,  and,  rising 

and  coming  forward  boldly  on  the  platform,  de- 
livered a  long  speech  explanatory  of  the  object 
of  the  meeting.  He,  with  his  erect  audacious 
presence  as  he  faced  the  large  audience,  his  black 
frock-coat  buttoned  up  to  the  throat,  his  hair 
turned  defiantly  back  from  his  forehead,  and  hat 
in  hand,  looked,  and  with  his  loud  peremptory 
voice,  his  sledge-hammer  action,  his  positive  state- 
ments, and  his  emphatic  expression  of  them,  ac- 
quitted himself,  like  a  practised  parliamentary 
orator  addressing  his  constituents  from  the  hust- 
ings. American  though  he  was,  he,  of  course, 
had  forgotten  all  the  traditional  sentiments  of 
his  republican  native  land,  and,  yielding  himself 
10 


146  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

up  entirely  to  the  inspiration  of  the  hoped-for 
barony  and  domain  of  Lovat,  his  speech  was 
as  anti-progressive  as  any  Tory  lord  or  landed 
proprietor  in  the  country  might  have  delivered. 
There  is  no  doubt,  if  my  friend  had  been  the  Con- 
servative candidate  for  Parliament,  and  an  elec- 
tion had  taken  place,  he  would  have  been  at  the 
head  of  the  poll,  with  an  overwhelming  majority 
of  the  votes  in  his  favor,  and  the  Liberal  candi- 
date nowhere. 

The  Edinburgh  students  of  all  classes  were,  at 
that  time, Tories  to  a  man — to  a  boy,  I  might  say, 
for  most  of  them  were  not  out  of  their  teens.  It 
seems  strange  that  it  should  be  so,  for  most  youth, 
with  the  natural  hopefulness  of  their  inexperi- 
enced age,  are  inclined  toward  change  and  prog- 
ress. In  France,  Italy,  Germany,  and  Russia, 
the  students,  if  interested  in  public  affairs  at  all, 
have  always  been  ranged  on  the  Liberal  side.  The 
mutterings  of  an  impending  political  storm  are 
generally  first  heard  in  the  coffee  and  beer  houses 
of  the  French  and  German  students,  while  they 
are  ever  the  most  forward  to  expose  themselves 
to  the  buffetings  of  the  revolutionary  outburst, 
and  the  earliest  to  suffer  and  die  among  the  vic- 
tims of  its  ravages. 

The  Conservative  sentiments  of  the  Edinburgh 
students  were  attributable,  perhaps,  to  the  fact 


INFLUENCE    OF   PEOFESSOR   WILSON.        147 

that  a  majority  of  the  professors  were  Tories; 
and  some  of  the  most  popular  ones  were  not 
merely  passive  adherents,  but  active  partisans  of 
their  cause.  "Wilson,  the  Professor  of  Moral  Phi- 
losophy and  Political  Economy — the  Christopher 
North  of  Slackwood — was  the  most  prominent  of 
these,  and  as  he  was  universally  admired  and  be- 
loved by  the  students,  his  example  and  opinions 
exercised  a  great  influence  over  them.  To  think 
as  he  thought,  and  to  do  as  he  did,  seemed  at  that 
time  the  very  acme  of  good-sense  and  right  con- 
duct. If  this  influence  had  been  merely  polit- 
ical, it  might  have  hardly  deserved  a  passing 
comment,  for  whether  college  lads  are  Whigs  or 
Tories,  Conservatives  or  Radicals,  is  probably  of 
little  importance  to  themselves,  and  certainly  of 
none  to  the  State.  Their  political  opinions  are 
nothing  else  than  a  caprice  of  the  moment,  to  be 
varied  by  the  interests  of  their  future  settled 
position  in  life.  The  Tory  germ  of  blue  may 
burst  forth  into  the  full-blown  Radical  flower  of 
red ;  or,  as  is  more  probable,  will  wither  and  die 
away  altogether  for  want  of  stimulus  to  growth. 
It  was  the  more  permanent  influence  of  the 
writings  of  Christopher  North  upon  the  habits 
of  intellectual  young  men  which  was  a  serious 
evil,  for,  by  a  curious  antithesis  of  destiny,  the 
professor  of  moral  philosophy  became  an  incul- 


148  MY    COLLEGE   DAYS. 

cator  of  immoralities.  His  Noctes  Ambrosiance 
and  other  editorial  rhapsodies, "  Christopher  with 
his  Rod  and  Creel,"  "  Christopher  in  his  Shoot- 
ing-jacket," "  Christopher  on  the  Moors,"  "Chris- 
topher on  Colonsay,"  and  such -like,  however 
much  they  may  have  been  inspired  by  genius, 
were  never  free  from  a  strong  flavor  of  whiskey ; 
and  it  is  not  astonishing  that  the  young  students, 
who  delighted  in  their  perusal,  should  have  con- 
founded the  effect  of  the  one  with  that  of  the 
other.  Finding  literary  effort  so  constantly  as- 
sociated with  sensual  indulgence,  they  began  to 
think  the  two  inseparable ;  and  with  the  example 
of  their  favorite  professor  ever  before  them,  sel- 
dom drank  of  the  Pierian  spring  without  a  large 
admixture  of  Glenlivet  or  Islay  in  their  potations. 
I  am  convinced  that  many  young  men  of  prom- 
ise thus  acquired  habits  of  indulgence  which  not 
only  proved  fatal  to  the  bright  hopes  their  tal- 
ents had  awakened,  but  led  to  their  final  ruin 
and  disgrace. 

The  various  societies  served,  to  a  certain  de- 
gree, as  a  bond  of  union  among  some  of  the  stu- 
dents, but  only  the  few  superior  youth,  and  those 
zealous  for  improvement,  were  members  of  them. 
The  Royal  Medical  Society,  as  it  was  grandly 
termed,  had  some  traditions  of  which  it  was  just- 
ly proud.  Among  its  associates  there  had  been 


THE    BRUNONIAN    CONTROVERSY.  149 

several  who  had  risen  to  great  distinction  in  the 
world.  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  who  had  begun 
his  career  as  a  student  of  medicine,  and  gradu- 
ated from  the  University  of  Edinburgh  as  a  phy- 
sician, was  one  of  the  presidents  of  the  society, 
and  most  active  members.  He  used  to  say  that, 
long  before  he  knew  the  difference  between  Ep- 
som salts  and  common  table  salt,  he  discussed  all 
medical  questions,  and  gave  his  opinion  with  the 
authority  of  an  Hippocrates.  The  youth,  in  my 
time,  were  hardly  less  oracular  in  their  enuncia- 
tions, though  it  is  hoped  they  were  based  upon  a 
more  extensive  foundation  of  knowledge. 

The  great  Brunonian  controversy,  as  it  was 
called,  which  had  so  stirred  the  medical  circles 
of  Edinburgh  a  century  ago,  was  still  remember- 
ed as  associated  with  the  medical  society,  where 
its  controversies  raged  with  more  fierceness  than 
elsewhere.  The  members  were  generally  ranged 
on  the  side  of  Brown  ;  but  one  daring  youth,  then 
a  president  of  the  society,  ventured  to  profess 
himself  an  adherent  of  Cullen,  his  opponent.  He 
was  provoked,  in  consequence,  to  a  duel,  and  sac- 
rificed his  life  to  his  opinions.  Brown  and  his 
followers  were  all  for  stimulants  in  the  treatment 
of  disease,  while  Cullen  and  his  were  all  against 
them.  Brown  finally  died  a  victim  to  his  doc- 
trine ;  for,  having  the  courage  of  his  opinions,  he 


150  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

drank  himself  to  death.  He  never  lectured  with- 
out a  bottle  of  brandy  before  him,  as  modern  lect- 
urers have  their  decanter  of  water.  He  was  a 
very  plausible  man,  and  succeeded  in  establish- 
ing a  system  of  practice  which  a  hundred  years 
ago  held  wide  sway,  the  effects  of  which  were 
still  evident  in  my  day. 

The  business  of  the  medical  society  was  the 
reading  of  papers  on  medical  or  cognate  sub- 
jects, and  subsequently  discussing  them.  There 
was  a  good  library  of  reference,  and  a  reading- 
room  with  a  well-spread  table  of  scientific  and 
other  periodicals,  among  which  the  Tory  Slack- 
wood  was  conspicuous.  After  each  weekly  ses- 
sion the  members  hurried  into  the  refreshment- 
room  below,  and  over  their  chocolate  and  cakes 
became  college  boys  again,  joyous  in  their  relief 
from  the  formalities  of  the  little  senate  above. 

Some  few  of  the  medical  students,  ambitious 
of  oratorical  distinction,  joined  the  Speculative 
Society,  but  it  was  principally  composed  of  the 
more  advanced  law  students  and  aspiring  young 
advocates  of  the  Parliament  House.  This  was 
the  society  of  which  Brougham,  Horner,  and  Jef- 
frey in  their  youth  were  members,  and  where  they 
first  essayed  their  wings  before  venturing  on  lof- 
tier flights.  There  were  other  associations  of  a 
scientific — as  the  "  Physical " — and  of  a  literary 


BOTANICAL   AND   GEOLOGICAL  TOURS.        151 

kind ;  but  the  mass  of  students  took  no  interest 
in  them,  finding  in  the  requirements  of  college 
studies  sufficient  exercise  for  all  the  mental  ac- 
tivity to  which  they  were  disposed. 

The  professors  of  botany  and  natural  history, 
including  geology  and  mineralogy,  used  to  bring 
together,  on  an  occasional  Saturday,  a  goodly 
number  of  the  members  of  their  classes,  and  lead 
them,  equipped  with  hammers,  geological  sacks, 
and  botanical  boxes,  on  long  stretches  of  many 
miles  about  the  country  in  search  of  stones, 
weeds,  and  fossils.  These  walks,  which  often, 
especially  under  the  guidance  of  the  indefatiga- 
ble Graham,  Professor  of  Botany,  extended  to  a 
length  of  forty  miles  or  more,  were  the  only  ex- 
ercises of  a  systematic  kind  much  practised  by 
the  students,  who  never  banded  together  for  any 
sort  of  athletic  game. 

They  skated,  however,  when  the  season  rare- 
ly permitted,  on  Duddingstone  Loch,  a  beautiful 
stretch  of  deep  water  on  the  outskirts  of  Edin- 
burgh, upon  the  wooded  bank  of  which  was  sit- 
uated the  picturesque  cottage  manse  of  Thomp- 
son, the  artist-clergyman.  The  loch  was  exces- 
sively deep,  and  it  was  only  during  a  very  severe 
winter  that  it  was  frozen  sufficiently  hard  for 
any  to  venture  upon  the  ice.  When  it  was  in 
safe  condition,  it  became  a  scene  of  great  gayety, 


152  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

all  the  fashionable  people  of  Edinburgh  turning 
out  to  look  at  the  skaters  and  curlers,  who  were 
always  in  great  force.  In  summer  there  was  oc- 
casional bathing  from  the  sands  of  Portobello. 

Voluntary  walks,  of  course,  were  frequently 
taken  to  Leith  and  Granton  Pier,  and  oftener 
still  to  the  famous  tavern  in  New  Haven,  where 
dinners  were  served  through  half  a  dozen  courses 
of  fish  exclusively,  with  free  admission,  however, 
at  each  remove,  of  wine  and  whiskey.  At  New 
Haven  is  the  ancient  settlement  of  the  fishing 
colony,  said  to  have  come  originally  from  Hol- 
land, whose  men  are  so  daring  on  the  sea,  and 
women  so  enticing  on  land,  and  all  brave,  hon- 
est, and  true.  It  is  from  here  come  those  pict- 
uresque-looking fish-women  with  laced  caps,  gay- 
ly  striped  petticoats,  and  blue  bodices,  who  are 
seen  and  their  voices  heard  in  every  street  of 
Edinburgh,  crying,  "Caller  haddies  !"  "Caller 
hose !"  (fresh  haddocks,  fresh  oysters).  In  a 
word,  New  Haven  was  the  home  of  Christie 
Johnson,  a  genuine  fish-wife,  whose  portrait  Reid 
has  so  charmingly  and  truthfully  painted. 

Some  few  of  the  students  occasionally  follow- 
ed the  hounds,  and  I  recollect  a  young  English- 
man attending  the  anatomy  class  in  full  hunts- 
man's rig  of  scarlet  coat,  white  cords,  top-boots, 
and  spurs,  and,  on  coming  out,  mounting  his  nag 


COLLEGE    SPORTSMEN.  153 

at  the  University  gates,  where  his  groom  had 
been  walking  the  animal  about  during  the  lect- 
ure. There  was  now  and  then  a  tandem  to  be 
seen,  but  merely  turned  out  for  the  occasion  from 
the  shabby  resources  of  a  livery-stable.  Only  one 
student,  of  whom  I  knew,  kept  his  horse ;  he  was 
a  young  East  Indian,  of  a  milk-and-molasses  com- 
plexion, a  showily  dressed,  ostentatious  fellow. 
He  was  fond  of  parading  his  animal — a  diminu- 
tive cob,  with  a  close-shaven  hide  and  a  brush 
tail — up  and  down  the  principal  streets,  with  the 
smallest  possible  boy, "  Tiger,"  as  he  was  called, 
perched  on  the  saddle,  with  black  beaver  hat  and 
cockade,  white  cravat,  gray  livery  coat,  leather 
breeches,  belt,  and  yellow-topped  boots,  all  com- 
plete. 

The  theatre  was,  of  course,  a  constant  resource 
of  diversion.  The  manager  was  that  clever  act- 
or and  most  worthy  citizen,  Murray.  His  wife 
was  the  sister  of  the  great  Mrs.  Siddons's  hus- 
band. There  were  two  ladies,  one  of  the  name 
of  Siddons,  and  the  other  Kemble,  who  were  joint 
occupants  with  me  of  a  pew  in  the  York  Place 
church,  whei-e,  after  leaving  the  little  chapel  in 
Carubbers  Close,  I  became  a  regular  attendant. 
It  was  always  in  the  English  church  where  act- 
ors and  actresses  congregated ;  for  the  Scotch 
Kirk,  with  a  disgraceful  intolerance,  would  not 


154  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

admit  any  of  the  dramatic  profession  to  the  priv- 
ileges of  its  communion.  It  was  in  the  little  old 
theatre  of  Edinburgh  that  Home's  "  Douglas " 

o  o 

was  first  represented,  which  representation  near- 
ly cost  the  reverend  author  his  pulpit,  for  he 
barely  escaped  excommunication ;  though  he  re- 
ceived a  severe  reprimand  from  his  Church,  not 
because  he  had  written  a  tragedy,  but  that  the 
wicked  folk  of  that  abomination  of  abominations, 
the  theatre,  had  ventured  to  put  it  on  the  stage. 

There  was,  of  course,  in  a  capital  city  like  that 
of  Edinburgh,  every  opportunity  for  the  gratifi- 
cation of  individual  tastes,  whatever  they  might 
be,  and  this  was  freely  availed  of;  but  it  may  be 
said  of  the  students  generally  that  they  devoted 
themselves  with  fair  attention  to  the  main  pur- 
pose of  their  residence  in  Edinburgh,  without 
being  greatly  distracted  from  it  by  the  pursuits 
of  pleasure. 

To  obtain  the  degree  of  doctor  of  medicine  in 
the  University  of  Edinburgh,  a  course  of  study 
of  four  years'  duration  was  required.  In  each 
year  there  were  two  sessions — a  winter  one  of  six, 
and  a  summer  one  of  three  months.  Attendance 
during  the  winter  sessions  was  alone  obligatory ; 
although  two  summer  sessions,  at  least,  were  at- 
tended by  almost  every  student,  as  being  most 
convenient  for  the  pursuits  of  botany  and  natu- 


DIFFERENT   COURSES    OF   LECTURES.         155 

ral  history.  There  were  eleven  different  courses 
of  lectures  upon  these  various  subjects :  Chemis- 
try, Anatomy,  Physiology,  Materia  Medica,  Prac- 
tice of  Medicine,  Pathology,  Midwifery,  Surgery, 
Medical  Jurisprudence,  Botany,  and  Natural  His- 
tory. All  of  these  courses  had  to  be  attended 
or  paid  for,  at  least,  at  the  rate  of  about  five 
guineas,  or  twenty-five  dollars  each,  twice  during 
the  whole  course  of  study  of  four  years.  At- 
tendance was  also  required  for  at  least  six 
months  at  a  laboratory  of  practical  chemistry, 
the  dissecting-room,  the  "hospital,  and  dispensary. 
There  were  three  examinations;  the  prelimi- 
nary one  to  test  the  candidate's  knowledge  of 
the  Latin  language,  which  might  be  passed  at 
any  time  at  the  discretion  of  the  student,  before 
the  first  medical  examination  which  took  place 
at  the  end  of  the  third  year,  and  consisted  of 
Botany,  Natural  History,  Chemistry,  Anatomy, 
and  Physiology.  The  final  examination  on  Ma- 
teria Medica,  Practice  of  Medicine,  Pathology, 
Midwifery,  Surgery,  and  Medical  Jurisprudence 
was  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  year,  when  the  stu- 
dent, having  presented  his  thesis  on  some  medi- 
cal or  cognate  subject,  and  "  defended  "  it,  as  it 
was  technically  termed,  was  admitted  to  the  de- 
gree of  M.D.  (Doctor  of  Medicine).  These  exam- 
inations, always  in  the  presence  of  at  least  three 


156  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

of  the  professors,  were  in  the  English  language, 
and  vivd  voce;  although  but  a  few  years  before 
I  joined  the  University  they  had  been  conduct- 
ed in  Latin,  as  also  the  "  defence  "  of  the  thesis, 
which,  too,  was  required  to  be  written  in  that 
language. 

The  "  defence  "  of  the  thesis,  as  it  was  grand- 
ly called,  was  little  more,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  in 
my  time  than  an  exchange  of  courtesies  with  the 
professor,  and  mutual  congratulations  upon  the 
termination  of  an  affair  which  had  really  never 
begun ;  in  fact,  a  mere  ceremonial  which  each 
regarded  as  a  bore,  and  was  glad  to  be  rid  of. 

No  one,  of  course,  was  admitted  to  the  second 
without  having  passed  the  first  examination,  nor 
to  the  third  without  having  passed  the  second. 
At  the  close  of  each  examination,  the  manner  in 
which  the  student  had  passed  it  was  indicated  by 
the  marks  M  (male, badly),  SB  (satis  bene, suffi- 
ciently well),B  (bene,  well),  and  VB  (valde  bene, 
very  well). 

As  I  was  fearful  what  little  Latin  I  had 
brought  away  from  college  might  give  me  the 
slip,  I  hastened  to  make  the  best  use  of  it  I 
could  while  it  remained  in  my  keeping,  so  I  im- 
mediately offered  myself  for  the  first  examina- 
tion, which  I  had'no  difficulty  in  passing.  I  was 
merely  called  upon  to  construe  a  few  passages 


WINTER   LECTURES.  157 

selected  indiscriminately  from  Cicero's  De  Na- 
turd  Deorum,  Celsius,  and  Gregory's  Conspectus, 
all  easy  of  translation  by  the  average  school-boy. 
During  my  first  winter  session  I  attended  four 
courses  of  lectures — Anatomy,  Physiology,  Chem- 
istry, and  Materia  Medica.  The  Professor  of 
Anatomy  was  Munro  tertius,  as  he  was  called — 
being  the  third  of  the  three  Munros,  father,  son, 
and  grandson,  who  had  been  professors  in  the 
same  department. 


MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Mnnro  Tertius. — A  Nonchalant  Professor. — Calling  Cards. 
— A  Personal  Description. — Strange  Illustration  of  Filial 
Affection. — First  Sight  of  Pickwick. — A  Dignified  Pro- 
fessor.— Hope. — Resplendent  Demonstrations. — Kemp. — 
Compression  of  Gases. — A  Great  Chemical  Feat. — Antic- 
ipation of  Modern  Discovery. — The  Eclipse  of  a  Man  of 
Genius. 

MUNRO  primus  was  great,  Munro  secundus 
greater, and  Munro  tertius  the  least;  so  much  so, 
in  fact,  and  at  such  a  distance  from  his  two  fa- 
mous predecessors,  as  not  to  be  thought  of  for  a 
moment  in  comparison  with  them.  Munro  ter- 
tius was  very  proud  of  his  name,  as  well  he 
might  be,  for  it  had  been  everything  to  him,  as 
without  it  he  certainly  never  would  have  had  his 
professorship,  or  been  held  in  any  consideration 
whatsoever.  He  was  totally  inefficient  as  a  lect- 
urer and  teacher;  and  if  he  had  ever  known 
much  of  anatomy,  he  had  forgotten  the  better 
part  of  it. 

His  lectures  were  attended  but  by  a  very  few, 
•.  and  would  have  been  by  none,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  fun  of  it.  He  seemed  to  be  quite  indif- 


MUNKO  "  TERTIUS."  159 

ferent  whether  the  students  came  or  not.  They 
were  obliged,  he  knew,  to  buy  his  tickets ;  and 
happy,  as  he  put  the  money  in  his  pocket,  in  the 
consciousness  of  this  fact,  he  cared  not  where 
they  went  for  their  anatomy,  which  he  must  have 
known  he  himself  could  not  supply. 

Every  student,  without  exception,  while  com- 
pelled to  pay  for  two  courses  of  Munro's  lect- 
ures, where  he  certainly  could  learn  nothing,  took 
lessons,  at  no  small  cost,  from  some  private  teach- 
er of  anatomy,  by  whom  there  was  a  chance  of 
being  taught  something.  This  created  a  great 
demand  for  private  anatomical  lecturers,  of  whom 
there  were  always  several  holding  forth  under 
the  very  eaves  of  the  college  buildings  to  Uni- 
versity students,  at  the  same  moment  that  Mun- 
ro  tertius,  the  appointed  professor,  was  mumbling 
his  inaudible  words  to  benches  made  empty  by 
their  desertion. 

It  was  one  of  the  duties  of  the  professors  to 
ascertain  how  far  the  students  were  regular  in 
their  attendance  at  the  classes  by  "calling  cards," 
as  it  was  termed.  This  should  have  been  done 
twice  a  week,  and  on  days  unexpected  by  the 
student.  Munro,  on  the  contrary,  conscious  that 
any  enforcement  of  regularity  at  his  lectures  was 
impracticable,  always  took  care  to  "  call  cards  " 
on  the  same  day,  and  at  the  opening  of  the  lect- 


ICO  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

ure;  so  the  students  came  in  full  force  at  the 
expected  time,  and  after  popping  into  the  room 
for  a  moment,  and  complying  with  the  order  to 
leave  their  names  or  cards,  popped  immediately 
out  again,  and  hurried  off  to  attend  to  such  du- 
ties or  pleasures  as  they  might  have  elsewhere. 

Munro  tertius  was  an  odd-looking  man,  with 
a  contracted  shrivelled  face,  small  peeping  eyes, 
short  stubby  nose,  and  pursed -up  mouth,  com- 
pressed, as  it  were,  between  an  impending  wrin- 
kled forehead  above,  the  height  of  which  seemed 
unnaturally  great  from  being  lost  in  the  expan- 
sive baldness  of  the  head,  and  a  full  double  chin 
below,  which  overlapped  his  dirty  white  cravat. 
He  was  always  very  carelessly  and  shabbily 
dressed ;  for,  though  rich,  he  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  very  mean  and  miserly.  He  had 
a  large,  gross,  and  flabby  person,  and  moved  it 
with  a  shuffling  gait  and  languid  carriage. 

He  did  everything  with  an  air  of  indolent  in- 
difference, and  performed  all  his  duties  as  a  pro- 
fessor in  the  most  perfunctory  manner.  He  hard- 
ly took  the  pains  to  articulate  his  words,  and 
drawled  out  what  he  had  to  say  in  such  a  muf- 
fled tone  that  it  was  scarcely  audible.  He  al- 
ways carried  in  his  hand  a  light  willow  wand, 
or  stick  of  some  kind,  with  which  he  carelessly 
pointed  out  the  object  of  demonstration — a  bone, 


STRANGE    FILIAL    AFFECTION.  161 

a  muscle,  or  whatever  it  might  be — for  he  never 
deigned  to  touch  them  with  a  finger.  He,  ordi- 
narily, contented  himself  with  the  mere  announce- 
ment of  the  name  of  an  anatomical  part,  for  he 
was  either  unable  or  too  indolent  to  describe  it, 
or  its  relations  to  the  human  body. 

Seemingly  very  proud  of  the  museum  collected 
by  his  father,  which  he  had  good  reason  to  rev- 
erence— for  by  its  gift  to  the  University  he  was 
said  to  have  secured  his  professorship — he  was 
very  fond  of  bringing  out  and  displaying  its  va- 
rious objects.  The  manner  in  which  he  did  this 
was  very  peculiar  and  amusing.  He  would  point 
with  his  wand  to  a  crumbling  osseous  specimen, 
and  fondly  say,  "  This  was  my  father's  collar- 
bone ;"  or,  "  This  was  my  father's  thigh ;"  or, 
"  This  was  my  father's  occiput,"  or  whatever  it 
might  be.  If  some  anatomical  part  preserved  in 
spirits,  he  would  take  up  the  glass  which  con- 
tained it,  and,  stroking  it  tenderly  with  his  hand, 
evoke  the  attention  of  the  class  with  the  affec- 
tionate announcement,  "This  was  my  father's 
stomach;"  or,  "This  was  my  father's  liver;"  or, 
"  This  was  my  father's  gullet,"  and  so  forth. 

This  droll  resurrection  of  paternal  remains  al- 
ways caused,  in  spite  of  all  due  respect  for  filial 
piety,  a  general  titter  among  the  few  students 
scattered  about  the  benches.  On  one  occasion, 
11 


162  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

I  recollect,  there  was  an  irresistible  burst  of  loud 
laughter,  which,  small  in  number  as  we  were, 
shook  the  benches  and  filled  the  almost  empty 
hall  with  its  sonorous  vibrations.  The  professor 
had  brought  out  an  enormous  circular  glass  jar, 
like  the  tank  of  an  aquarium,  in  which  was  float- 
ing, iu  a  sea  of  alcohol,  a  great  swollen  foetus, 
and,  with  more  than  usual  filial  tenderness  in  his 
tone,  declared, "  This  was  my  father's  baby  !" 

Pastime  was  the  sole  object  of  the  student  in 
attending  Munro's  class,  and  if  he  did  not  find  it 
in  the  eccentricities  of  the  professor,  he  took  care 
to  provide  it  for  himself.  It  was  common,  ac- 
cordingly, to  take  with  him  some  amusing  book, 
or  to  seek  entertainment  by  keeping  up  a  lively 
conversation  with  his  comrades.  Hearing,  one 
day,  behind  me  a  sound  of  convulsive  tittering, 
which  seemed  to  indicate  a  great  effort  to  sup- 
press what,  at  every  moment,  threatened  to  burst 
out  into  loud  and  uncontrollable  laughter,  I  turn- 
ed round,  and,  confronting  the  merry  face  of  one 
of  my  friends,  I  asked  him  the  cause  of  his  mer- 
riment. He  pointed  to  a  green-covered  pamphlet 
before  him,  and  said  it  was  a  number  of  "  Pick- 
wick." It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  heard 
of  it ;  but  it  was  not  long  after  that  I,  too,  in  com- 
mon with  all  the  world,  became  familiar  with 
that  famous  work,  which  had  just  begun  to  be 


THE    DIGNIFIED    DR.  HOPE.  163 

issued,  and  could  appreciate  the  difficulty  that 
my  friend  must  have  had  in  his  attempts  to  keep 
his  laughter  within  the  limits  of  public  decorum. 

Among  his  many  manifestations  of  eccentric- 
ities, Munro  tertius,  after  marrying  and  having 
twelve  children,  took,  on  the  death  of  his  first 
wife,  a  second ;  but  of  the  amount  of  offspring 
by  her  there  is  no  record. 

The  most  dignified  personage  of  the  whole 
University  was  Dr.  Hope,  the  Professor  of  Chem- 
istry. We  all  looked  upon  him  with  awe  and 
admiration,  as,  just  touching  with  his  gloved  hand 
the  gold-laced  cuff  of  his  tall  footman,  he  alight- 
ed at  the  college  gates  from  his  handsome  equi- 
page, and  walked,  with  stately  step,  across  the 
quadrangle  to  the  lecture-room. 

He  was  a  vigorous  old  man  of  seventy  years 
of  age,  with  an  efflorescent  face  telling  of  a  long 
life  of  good  cheer.  His  portly  frame  was  attired 
with  scrupulous  nicety  and  elegance.  He  was  al- 
ways dressed  in  black,  with  a  broad-flapped  dress- 
coat,  knee  breeches,  silk  stockings,  and  low  shoes 
with  wide  silver  buckles.  He  had  nothing  of 
the  look  of  a  manipulator  of  retorts  and  cruci- 
bles, but  altogether  the  air  of  a  church  dignitary, 
replete  with  rich  benefices. 

In  his  early  days  he  had  been  regarded  as  a 
brilliant  lecturer,  and  attracted  daily  a  large  class 


164  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

to  witness  his  experimental  displays.  He  never 
made,  so  far  as  I  know,  any  substantial  contribu- 
tion to  the  progress  of  the  science  he  professed 
to  teach,  and  at  my  time  he  had  already  been 
left  far  in  the  rear  by  his  rapidly  advancing 
contemporaries,  seeming  hardly  conscious  of  the 
fruitful  labors  of  Berzelius,  Dumas,  and  Faraday. 
He  continued  faithfully  in  the  track  of  the  old 
chemists  of  half  a  century  before,  and  startled  us 
tyros  with  the  same  resplendent  demonstrations 
of  the  effects  of  chemical  combination,  and  the 
evolution  of  heat  and  cold,  as  those  with  which 
he  had  astonished  our  predecessors  for  the  pre- 
vious fifty  years. 

He  took  great  pleasure  in  making  experimen- 
tal exhibitions  on  a  large  scale,  and  of  a  showy, 
obvious  kind,  being  more  anxious,  apparently,  to 
surprise  the  senses  than  to  awaken  the  intelli- 
gence of  his  youthful  and  inexperienced  audi- 
ence. The  well-known  rapidity  of  the  combina- 
tion of  iron  and  sulphur,  with  the  brilliant  effect 
which  ensues,  he  would  illustrate  with  an  enor- 
mous mass  of  red-hot  iron  as  big  as  a  crow-bar, 
and  a  roll  of  sulphur  as  large  and  thick  as  his 
arm.  When  he  brought  the  two  together  in 
contact,  and  the  heated  particles  from  the  quick- 
dissolving  metal  flew  off  in  a  shower  of  splendid 
scintillations,  and  the  whole  room  was  in  a  glow, 


AN.  ACTIVE    ASSISTANT.  1G5 

illuminating  each  face,  there  was  none  which 
glistened  with  more  brightness,  and  exhibited 
more  delight,  than  that  of  the  old  professor.  He 
would  cause  mercury  to  be  frozen  by  the  hun- 
dred pounds  at  a  time,  and  exhibit,  with  an  air 
of  great  self-satisfaction,  large  vases,  forms,  and 
figures  of  the  congealed  metal. 

Hope  was  very  fortunate  in  the  possession  of 
a  very  clever  and  active  assistant,  without  whose 
aid  the  old  man,  already  very  shaky,  would  have 
been  unable  to  indulge  in  his  favorite  exhibition 
of  fireworks,  and  other  entertaining  illustrations 
of  chemical  action. 

Kemp,  Dr.  Hope's  assistant,  was  of  very  hum- 
ble birth,  and  his  tone,  speech,  manner,  and  ap- 
pearance all  indicated  his  low  origin ;  but  he  was 
a  man  of  unquestionable  genius.  He  was  the 
first  to  prove  by  experiment  the  compressibility 
of  many  of  the  gases.  He  had  a  whole  arsenal 
of  bent  glass  tubes,  containing  these  in  their 
liquid  form,  which  he  used  to  handle  and  dis- 
play with  a  fearlessness  which  he  did  not  impart 
to  the  rest  of  us  when  made  aware  of  the  force 
imprisoned  in  those  brittle  vessels.  There  was 
explosive  power  enough,  had  it  once,  by  hazard, 
gained  a  vent,  to  blow  up  the  whole  college 
structure  and  every  soul  in  it,  and  leave  its  ruins 
the  scene  of  a  catastrophe  more  fatal,  if  less 


166  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

memorable,  than  that  which  had  given  the  site 
of  Kirk  o'  Fields,  upon  which  the  University 
was  built,  its  tragic  historical  interest  as  the 
spot  where  Bothwell  and  his  royal  paramour 
had  murdered  Darnley. 

Kemp's  great  feat  was  the  conversion  of  car- 
bonic acid  gas  into  a  solid  by  means  of  some 
enormous  and  incalculable  amount  of  pressure. 
He  often  repeated  the  experiment  with  no  un- 
usual precaution,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  beyond 
carrying  his  apparatus  for  the  purpose  into  the 
open  quadrangle,  possibly  with  the  view,  in  case 
of  an  explosion,  that  there  might  be  more  space 
for  the  scattering  of  the  remains  of  its  unfail- 
ing victims.  His  apparatus  consisted  of  an  iron 
sphere  of  enormous  thickness,  and  of  the  size 
and  capacity  of  a  keg  or  small  barrel,  divided 
transversely  into  t\vo  equal  parts,  in  one  of  which 
there  was  a  nozzle  with  a  stop-cock.  After  the 
materials  for  generating  the  gas  were  placed  in 
one  of  these  hemispheres,  the  other  was  set  upon 
it  like  a  lid,  and  fastened  closely  and  firmly  in  po- 
sition by  several  powerful  brass  nuts  and  screws. 

After  it  was  supposed  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
the  gas  had  been  generated  and  immensely  com- 
pressed by  its  own  elastic  atmosphere,  kept  from 
expansion  by  the  strong  vessel  in  which  it  was 
confined,  the  cock  was  suddenly  opened,  and  the 


THE    TELEGRAPH    ANTICIPATED.  IG? 

carbonic  acid  gas  burst  forth  in  a  shower  of 
white  particles  or  flakes.  This  we  collected  and 
rolled  together  like  a  snowball,  but  soon  dropped 
it  from  the  hand,  for  it  seemed,  after  holding  it 
awhile,  to  bite  the  flesh  like  a  nip  of  sharp  frost. 
This  experiment  has,  no  doubt,  been  frequently 
repeated  since  those  days,  but  in  my  time  it  was 
so  rare  that  chemists  came  from  various  parts 
of  the  world  to  Kemp's  laboratory  to  witness  it. 

Kemp  had  a  wire  of  five  miles  in  length  coil- 
ed over  the  ceiling  of  his  lecture-room,  through 
which  he  often  passed  a  current  of  electricity ; 
and,  bidding  us  remark  the  rapidity  and  sureness 
of  its  passage,  would  say  that  here  was  a  means 
of  transmitting  intelligence  between  points,  how- 
ever mutually  distant,  from  one  end  of  Europe 
to  the  other,  and,  in  fact,  around  the  whole  earth  ; 
for,  as  he  said,  no  water — river,  lake,  or  even  the 
ocean  itself — could  interrupt  the  course  of  the 
swift,  subtle,  penetrating  electric  fluid.  He  never 
failed  to  add  that  some  of  us  would  live  to  sec 
it  practically  applied  for  this  purpose.  He  thus 
anticipated  telegraphic  communication  by  means 
of  electricity,  now  so  familiar  to  us  all,  long  be- 
fore any  one  had  conceived  the  idea  of  its  possi- 
bility. 

We  students,  and  every  one  else,  regarded 
Kemp  at  that  time  as  a  wild  enthusiast,  and  siis- 


1G8  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

pected  that  his  mind  was  distempered  by  his 
increasing  habit  of  indulgence  in  strong  drink; 
which,  alas  !  daily  becoming  more  evident,  final- 
ly brought  him  to  ruin  and  disgrace,  and  thus 
early  extinguished  a  genius  which  gave  great 
promise  to  science. 

Kemp  delivered  a  course  of  what  he  termed 
Practical  Chemistry,  which  we  all  attended.  The 
price  was  much  less  than  that  of  the  lectures  of 
the  dignified  Professor  Hope,  but  the  value  in- 
finitely greater.  What  we  learned  of  chemistry 
was  not  acquired  in  the  great  hall  above,  where 
the  stately  and  prescribed  University  lecturer  so 
magniloquently  pronounced  his  commonplaces, 
but  in  the  dark,  diminutive,  stone  -  paved  room 
below,  where  the  uncouth,  half-educated,  and  oft- 
besotted  little  Scotchman  blurted  out,  in  his  rude 
brogue,  the  inspirations  of  genius. 


PROFESSOR    ALISON.  169 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

Professor  Alison.— The  Good  Physician. — "Our  Doctor." 
— Robust  and  Gentle. — Sir  Robert  Christison. — Hard 
Worker. — Powers  of  Endurance. — Personal  Appearance. 
— Sir  William  Hamilton. — Author  of  "Cyril  Thornton." 
— Hundreds  of  Skulls. — A  Death-blow  to  Phrenology. — 
Professor  Wilson. — His  Works. — Personal  Appearance. 
— As  a  Lecturer.  —  The  Dogs.  —  How  a  Professor  was 
Appointed. — Pillans. 

THE  professor  of  Physiology,  whose  class  I  at- 
tended, was  the  brother  of  Archibald  Alison,  the 
historian,  and  son  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Alison,  the 
author  of  the  celebrated  essay  on  "  Taste."  Dr. 
William  P.  Alison,  the  professor,  was  a  writer  of 
no  little  merit  himself,  and  the  author  of  a  work 
on  Physiology,  which  in  those  remote  days,  be- 
fore the  science  had  emerged  from  the  misty  at- 
mosphere of  speculative  conjecture  into  the  clear 
light  of  experimental  research,  was  regarded  as 
an  ingenious  and  suggestive  help  to  theoretical 
inquiry. 

He  had  a  far  nobler  fame,  however,  than  that 
of  writer  or  author,  though  from  its  very  nature 
it  was  restricted  to  narrower  bounds.  He  was 


170  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

known  and  beloved  by  all  the  poor  and  wretch- 
ed of  Edinburgh,  by  whom  he  was  affectionately 
termed  "  Our  Doctor."  One  of  the  most  emi- 
nent physicians  of  his  day,  the  great  and  the  rich 
eagerly  sought  his  advice,  and  would  gladly  have 
secured  it  at  any  cost;  but  he  scorned  their  hon- 
orariums and  rewards,  and  devoted  his  services 
to  the  humble  and  the  destitute.  He  was  con- 
stantly in  the  grimy  "  wynds  "  and  filthy  "  closes  " 
of  the  old  town,  the  crowded  haunts  of  disease 
and  misery,  exercising  all  his  skill  to  heal  the 
sick,  and  the  full  resources  of  his  benevolence 
and  generosity  to  encourage  and  support  the 
needy  and  despairing. 

Dr.  Alison's  poor  dependents  tracked  him  all 
over  the  city,  following  him  to  his  home,  and  to 
the  college  halls.  The  door  of  his  lecture-room 
was  daily  besieged  by  a  great  throng  of  these 
miserable  creatures — men,  women,  and  children 
— who,  as  soon  as  he  made  his  appearance,  sur- 
rounded and  clung  to  him  so  closely  that  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  move  a  step.  Nor  did  he 
exhibit  the  least  sign  of  impatience,  or  show  any 
desire  to  avoid  their  importunities;  but, compos- 
ing them  witli  a  few  gentle  words,  gave  each  one 
an  attentive  hearing,  and  satisfying,  apparently, 
the  behests  of  all,  sent  them  away  happier  and 
more  contented  for  the  interview. 


PRACTICAL   BENEVOLENCE.  171 

The  door-steps  of  his  house  were  perpetually 
beset  in  the  same  way  by  a  crowd  of  poor  peo- 
ple awaiting  his  going  in  or  coming  out.  He 
always  went  afoot;  for  he  gave  away  so  much 
of  his  income  that  he  could  not  afford  to  keep 
a  carriage,  notwithstanding  his  large  resources 
from  his  professorship  and  a  considerable  pri- 
vate fortune.  He  was  as  great  a  favorite  with 
the  students  as  with  the  poor  people,  and  when- 
ever any  one  of  them  was  taken  seriously  ill,  he 
was  sure  to  send  for  Professor  Alison,  and  he 
always  came ;  for  there  was  no  awaiting  fee  to 
exclude  him  from  a  claim  to  the  good  doctor's 
servicc?s. 

Dr.  Alison  was  one  of  the  physicians  of  the 
Infirmary,  and  his  presence  in  the  ward  which 
he  daily  visited  was  like  a  radiance  from  heav- 
en, bringing  hope  and  patience  to  every  sufferer. 
His  looks  corresponded  with  his  deeds,  and  ev- 
ery feature  of  his  face  beamed  with  an  expres- 
sion of  benevolence.  He  was  a  large,  tall  man, 
over  six  feet  in  height,  with  broad  shoulders  and 
ruddy  cheeks,  and  every  indication,  in  fact,  of  a 
strong  body  and  good  digestion.  He  had  a  pe- 
culiarly gentle  voice ;  and  to  hear,  as  he  bent  over 
the  bed  of  a  patient,  upon  whose  head  his  broad 
hand  was  softly  laid,  his  habitual  words,  "My 
poor  woman,"  or,  "  My  good  man,"  as  it  might 


172  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

be,  was  as  if  a  chord  of  sweet  music  had  been 
touched,  awakening  all  the  tender  emotions  of 
the  heart. 

The  most  earnest,  hard- working  man  in  the 
University  was  Dr.,  now  Sir  Robert  Christison, 
the  professor  of  Materia  Medica.  Besides  giving 
his  regular  course  of  lectures,  he  was  an  indefat- 
igable experimentalist  in  the  laboratory ;  one  of 
the  attendant  physicians  of  the  Infirmary ;  an  ac- 
tive member  of  the  Royal  Society,  where  he  fre- 
quently read  papers ;  the  president  of  the  Phar- 
maceutical Society;  a  public  analyst;  and  an  elab- 
orate author,  of  the  excellence  of  whose  works 
the  "Edinburgh  Pharmacopeia,"  and  his  stand- 
ard book  on  Poisons,  are  unquestioned  proofs. 

His  personal  appearance  indicated  the  ener- 
getic spirit  and  laborious  life  of  the  man.  His 
body  was  worn  bare  almost  to  the  skeleton ;  his 
face  was  shrivelled,  and  had  a  bilious  tint  and 
haggard  expression.  He  had  a  remarkable  sus- 
ceptibility of  disease.  He  could  not  enter  the 
fever  wards  of  the  hospital  without  catching  that 
malignant  typhus  whose  victims  always  abound- 
ed there.  After  having  been  laid  prostrate  by 
six  or  more  attacks  in  succession,  he  was  finally 
forced  by  his  colleagues,  though  against  his  own 
strenuous  protest,  to  withdraw  forever  from  all 
attendance  on  patients  afflicted  with  the  disease. 


WHOLESOME    EFFECT    OF   WORK.  173 

He  was  of  the  American  rather  than  British 
type  —  eager,  nervous,  thin,  angular,  tendinous, 
and  always  on  the  go.  With  this  filmy  struct- 
ure and  apparently  exhausting  activity  of  mind 
and  body,  he  combined,  as  is  not  seldom  found 
in  our  countrymen  of  the  same  form  and  tem- 
perament, a  power  of  endurance  for  which  no 
trial  seemed  too  great. 

Sir  Robert  Christison  was  living  a  few  months 
ago,  a  hale  old  man  of  ninety  years  of  age  —  a 
striking  example  of  the  wholesome  effect  of 
work  in  promoting  health  and  prolonging  hu- 
man existence.  It  is  hoped  he  may  be  living 
still. 

Though  having  all  due  respect  for  the  men  of 
eminence  in  my  own  profession,  I  took,  I  must 
confess,  more  interest  in  some  members  of  the 
faculty  of  the  University  of  wider  celebrity. 
There  was  the  professor  of  Logic,  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  who  at  that  time,  however,  had  not 
acquired  the  reputation  he  has  since,  of  the 
greatest  metaphysician  of  our  age. 

I  do  not  recollect  ever  having  heard  him  lect- 
ure; for  there  was  nothing  in  his  subject,  or  in 
his  reputed  manner  of  treating  it,  greatly  to  at- 
tract me  at  that  early  period  of  my  life.  At  the 
time,  I  think,  I  was  more  interested  in  him  from 
the  fact  of  his  being  the  brother  of  Colonel  Ham- 


174  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

ilton,  the  author  of  that  interesting  novel,  "  Cy- 
ril Thornton,"  and  of  a  rather  saucy  book  on  the 
United  States,  where,  in  the  more  sensitive  days 
of  our  immaturity,  he  was  classed  with  the  Trol- 
lopes,  Fiddlers,  and  others  whom  we  then  re- 
garded as  critics  who  had  reached  the  height 
of  impudence,  in  venturing  to  say  frankly  what 
they  thought  of  us  and  our  country. 

I  saw,  however,  in  the  class-room  of  the  pro- 
fessor of  physiology,  an  interesting  reminder  of 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  who  used  the  same  hall 
for  the  delivery  of  his  lectures.  Behind  the  ros- 
trum there  was  a  number  of  shelves  fastened  to 
the  wall,  upon  which  were  ranged  the  hundreds 
of  skulls  which  gave  such  weight  to  the  death- 
blow that  Sir  William  Hamilton  dealt,  in  his 
famous  article  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  to  the 
pseudo- science  of  Gall  and  Spurzheim.  Each 
one  of  the  skulls  had  an  artificial  opening  above 
the  sockets  of  the  eyes,  exhibiting  the  cavity  call- 
ed the  frontal  sinus,  and  showing  that  such  space 
existed  between  the  two  plates  of  bone  which 
formed  the  receptacle  of  the  brain,  that  its  con- 
volutions could  not  possibly  correspond  with  any 
prominences  which  might  be  found  on  the  ex- 
terior surface  or  plate  of  the  skull.  The  idea, 
therefore,  that  an  examination  of  the  head  could 
indicate  any  special  development  of  separate 


ADMIRATION    FOR    PROFESSOR    WILSON.      175 

parts  of  the  brain  was  thus  proved  to  be  mani- 
festly absurd. 

There  was  no  one  I  was  so  eager  to  see  as 
John  Wilson,  professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  and 
Political  Economy  in  the  University — the  Chris- 
topher North  of  JBlacJcwood — then  in  the  full 
vigor  of  life  and  genius,  and  at  the  height  of  re- 
nown ;  for  I  had,  in  common  with  all  my  com- 
rades who  possessed  the  least  literary  sympathy, 
a  strong  youthful  admiration  for  the  author  of 
the  luxuriant  verses  of  the  "  Isle  of  Palms,"  and 
the  pathetic  stories  of  the  "Lights  and  Shadows 
of  Scottish  Life;"  while  I  held  in  reverential  awe 
the  Jupiter  Tonans  of  literature,  who  wielded 
the  critical  thunder-bolts  of  "  Old  Ebony." 

I  was  then  too  young,  perhaps,  to  fully  ap- 
preciate the  masculine  vigor  and  high-spiced  hu- 
mor with  which  life,  manners,  and  literature  were 
treated  in  the  N~octes  Ambrosiance;  and  as  I  have 
arisen  with  advanced  age  to  a  more  capable  ap- 
preciation of  these,  my  taste,  I  must  confess,  has 
more  and  more  rebelled  against  the  virulence  of 
political  partisanship,  the  coarse  jocularity,  and 
the  flavor  of  sensual  indulgence  which  always 
accompany  and  degrade  them.  While  admiring 
the  sympathetic  insight  and  generous  toleration 
of  Christopher  North  in  many  of  the  later  pa- 
pers of  his  editorship,  I  find  them  so  smothered 


176  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

in  rhapsody  as  to  be  difficult  and  hardly  worth 
the  effort  of  resuscitation. 

There  was  no  difficulty  for  any  one  living  in 
Edinburgh  to  see  Professor  Wilson ;  for,  if  he 
was  anywhere  within  the  field  of  vision,  the  eye 
was  sure  to  be  attracted  and  fixed  upon  him.  I 
saw  him  almost  every  day  going  to  his  class 
and  coming  from  it.  I  can  well  recall  his  gigan- 
tic figure  striding  along  the  North  and  South 
bridges  at  such  a  pace  that  his  three  or  four 
little  short-legged  Scotch  terriers,  which  always 
followed  at  his  heels,  run  as  fast  as  they  might, 
could  hardly  keep  up  with  him. 

Professor  Wilson  has  been  often  described, 
but  never  so  accurately  as  in  this  hasty  sketch 
of  him  by  Dickens:  "A  tall,  burly,  handsome 
man  of  eight-and-forty  (1841),  with  a  gait  like 
O'Connell's,  the  bluest  eyes  you  can  imagine,  and 
long  hair — longer  than  mine"  (says  Dickens) — 
"  falling  down  in  a  wild  way,  under  the  broad 
brim  of  his  hat.  He  had  on  a  surtout  coat;  a 
blue -checked  shirt,  the  collar  standing  up,  and 
kept  in  its  place  with  a  wisp  of  black  necker- 
chief; no  waistcoat;  and  a  large  pocket-handker- 
chief thrust  into  his  breast,  which  was  all  broad 
and  open.  At  his  heels  followed  a  wiry,  sharp- 
eyed,  shaggy  devil  of  a  terrier,  dogging  his  steps 
as  he  went  slashing  up  and  down,  now  with  one 


PERSONAL   APPEARANCE.  177 

man  beside  him,  now  with  another,  and  now  quite 
alone,  but  always  at  a  fast,  rolling  pace,  with  his 
head  in  the  air,  and  his  eyes  as  wide  open  as  he 
could  get  them.  I  guessed  it  was  Wilson,  and 
it  was.  A  bright,  clean-complexioned,  mountain- 
looking  fellow,  he  looks  as  though  he  had  just 
come  down  from  the  Highlands,  and  had  never 
in  his  life  taken  pen  in  hand." 

There  is  not  the  least  exaggeration  in  this  de- 
scription by  Dickens  of  the  carelessness  of  Wil- 
son's dress.  He  always  looked  to  me  as  if  he 
had  slept  in  his  clothes,  and,  having  been  sud- 
denly awakened,  had  been  forced  to  hurry  away, 
without  having  time  to  put  them  and  his  person 
in  order. 

I  used  occasionally  to  follow  the  professor  to 
his  lecture-room,  where,  as  he  ascended  the  ros- 
trum, he  was  greeted  by  his  large  class  with  such 
demonstrations  of  welcome  as  evinced  the  hearty 
and  sincere  affection  by  which  he  was  regarded 
by  every  student.  He  evidently  appreciated  this 
daily  expression  of  fondness,  and  always  acknowl- 
edged it  with  a  kindly  smile,  and  a  gentle  depre- 
catory shake  of  his  long  yellow  locks. 

Silence  immediately  ensued  among  the  stu- 
dents, each  one  of  whom  seemed  eager  to  catch 
every  sound  of  their  favorite  professor's  voice. 
He  took  out  of  one  of  his  side-pockets  a  tumbled 
12 


178  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS.  , 

conglomeration  of  manuscripts,  with  no  more  reg- 
ularity of  form  and  order  than  so  much  waste 
paper,  and,  throwing  them  down  scattered  before 
him,  began  to  hold  forth.  What  he  said  he  evi- 
dently did  not  read  from  the  writing  lying  about, 
for  he  never  looked  at,  and  only  touched  it  to 
give  it  an  occasional  crumple  with  his  hand,  in 
the  course  of  the  energy  of  his  action.  He  knew 
but  little,!  fancy, of  moral  philosophy, and  much 
less  of  political  economy ;  but  his  lectures,  pleas- 
antly discursive,  were  always  interesting.  His 
little  terriers,  in  the  mean  time,  were  crouching 
under  his  desk ;  and  sometimes  the  professor,  in 
the  stir  of  his  eloquence  moving  heedlessly  about, 
would  happen  to  tread  upon  the  leg  or  tail  of 
one  of  the  poor  little  creatures,  and  a  sharp  yelp 
would  be  heard,  piercing  at  once  some  oratori- 
cal wind-bag  in  course  of  inflation  by  the  lecturer, 
and  causing  a  sudden  collapse  and  universal  mer- 
riment, in  which  Wilson  would  join  as  heartily 
as  the  rest. 

Wilson  was  entirely  indebted  to  political  par- 
tisanship for  his  appointment  of  professor.  No 
one  ever  regarded  him  as  a  fit  successor  of  Du- 
gald  Stewart,  and  a  proper  teacher  of  moral  phi- 
losophy, unless  his  rabid  Toryism  and  free-and- 
easy  convivial  habits  were  deemed  qualifications. 
His  intimate  associates  must  have  laughed  in 


PROFESSOR   PILLANS.  179 

their  sleeves  at  his  appointment  as  a  good  joke. 
Walter  Scott,  his  friend  and  a  brother  Tory,  when 
promising  him  all  his  great  influence, felt  it  nec- 
essary to  exhort  him  to  "  eschew  sack,  and  live 
cleanly." 

Among  the  professors  was  Pillans,  of  the  Hu- 
manity— the  Scotch  for  Latin  class.  He  was  a 
painstaking,  high-  minded  teacher,  who  did  not 
merit  in  any  way  the  mud  with  which  Byron, 
to  gratify  a  boyish  grudge  when  at  Harrow,  be- 
spattered him  in  this  dirty  line  of  his  "  English 
Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers," 

"And  paltry  Pillans  traduce  liis  friend." 


180  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Close  of  Winter  Session. — Vacations.  —  To  Glasgow  by 
Canal. — A  Jolly  Archdeacon. — Glenarbuck.  —  Blantyre 
House. — A  Noble  Fee. — A  Tragic  End. — A  Winter  Voy- 
age.—  Illness  at  Sea. — A  Gentle  Seafaring  Man.  —  The 
North  Atlantic  in  Winter. — A  Victim. — Hoisting  Sail. — 
Detection. — Arrival  in  New  York. — A  Mitigated  Wel- 
come. 

AFTER  the  close  of  the  winter  session  of  six 
months,  I  had  always  half  of  the  year  to  dispose 
of.  I  usually  occupied  three  months  of  this  in 
attending  the  summer  session  of  the  University, 
and  the  rest  of  the  time  in  various  holiday  ex- 
cursions. There  were  two  friends  of  mine,  then 
bachelors  —  one  a  retired  merchant  from  New 
York,  and  the  other  his  brother,  an  eminent  law- 
yer— who  always  offered  and  gave  me  a  hearty 
welcome.  I  spent  much  of  my  leisui'e  time  with 
them ;  now  in  their  luxurious  town  residence  in 
Blythswood  Square,  in  Glasgow ;  and  again  at  a 
picturesque  country-place  they  rented  for  several 
summers. 

I  used  often  to  go  to  Glasgow  by  the  canal, 
on  which  there  was  a  passenger  boat,  which,  by 


ARCHDEACON    WILLIAMS.  181 

frequent  relays  of  post-horses  and  postilions,  was 
able  to  compete  with  the  fast  mail-coach  between 
Glasgow  and  Edinburgh.  The  railway  has,  of 
course,  long  since  made  this  an  impossible  mode 
of  travel  for  modern  impatience,  but  in  my  day 
it  was  a  favorite,  and  really  a  very  agreeable, 
mode  of  journeying.  The  boats  were  handsome- 
ly fitted  up,  and  the  company  was  always  the 
best,  of  which  the  freedom  of  communication  and 
ease  of  movement  permitted  a  full  enjoyment.  I 
recollect  having  once,  as  my  fellow -passengers, 
Archdeacon  Williams  and  his  charming  family 
of  daughters.  These  bright,  black -eyed  girls 
were  in  great  glee,  and  amused  themselves  pluck- 
ing wild  plants  and  flowers  from  the  banks  of 
the  canal  as  we  rapidly  skimmed  them  in  our 
fast-going  boat.  They  were  good  botanists,  and 
had  the  name  ready  for  every  insignificant  grass 
or  weed  they  saw  or  caught,  but  it  was  always 
the  English  one;  for  their  father, they  said, for- 
bade them  using  the 'scientific  Latin  terms  as  too 
pedantic  for  young  ladies.  While  the  daughters 
were  thus  occupied  in  botanizing,  and  I  in  ob- 
serving them,  there  was  suddenly  a  great  burst 
of  laughter  from  the  father,  who  sat  reading  in 
the  bow  of  the  boat.  It  shook  our  tremulous 
vessel,  and  fairly  rippled  the  water  with  its 
hearty  reverberations.  On  ascertaining  the  cause 


182  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

of  this  uproarious  merriment,  I  found  that  the 
archdeacon  was  reading  "  Pickwick ;"  and,  show- 
ing me  the  illustration  by  Phiz,  where  old  Wel- 
ler  is  pointing  significantly  with  his  thumb  over 
his  left  shoulder  to  Samivel's  sweetheart,  the  pret- 
ty chamber-maid,  Mary,  he  imitated  the  gesture, 
and  burst  out  again  in  an  uncontrollable  fit  of 
laughter.  This  was  the  second  time  that  my  at- 
tention had  been  drawn  to  a  book  I  had  not  yet 
read,  by  a  public  manifestation  of  the  immense 
delight  it  gave. 

Archdeacon  Williams  was  the  author  of  rather 
a  dull  book — Life  of  Alexander  the  Great ;  but 
Professor  Wilson,  of  Blackwood,  always  spoke 
of  him  as  the  most  learned  and  wittiest  of  arch- 
deacons ;  he  certainly  was  the  jolliest — a  stout, 
broad -faced,  merry  parson,  whose  cheerfulness 
not  even  the  cocked  hat  and  sombre  suit  of 
clerical  black  he  wore  could  repress.  He  had 
been  a  great  friend  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  had 
charge  of  his  son  Charles  when  a  parish  clergy- 
man in  Wales.  When  I  knew  him,  he  was  the 
head-master  of  the  Edinburgh  Academy,  which 
the  Tories  and  aristocrats  had  established  as  a 
rival  to  the  democratic  High  School. 

After  spending  a  few  days  in  Glasgow,  I  ac- 
companied my  friends  to  their  country -place. 
This  was  Glenarbuck,  situated  on  the  right  bank 


BLAXTYRE    HOUSE.  183 

of  the  Clyde,  about  ten  miles  from  the  city  of 
Glasgow.  The  house  was  a  pretty  Italian  villa, 
with  a  considerable  sweep  of  varied  park -like 
grounds,  the  lawns  of  which  spread  almost  down 
to  the  river,  while  the  rich  growth  of  wood,  shad- 
ing the  sides  and  the  rear  of  the  dwelling,  ex- 
tended in  the  distance  behind  to  the  hills  which 
bordered  Loch  Lomond,  and  hid  it  from  view. 
Within  a  few  steps  from  the  park  gate  rose  the 
old  Castle  of  Dumbarton.  It  and  the  great  rock 
upon  which  it  is  built  almost  touched,  with  their 
deep,  jagged  shades  of  crag  and  buttress,  the 
smooth  lawns  of  Glenarbuck.  The  place  is  now 
the  property  of  Lord  Blantyre,  and  was,  I  be- 
lieve, a  wedding-gift  from  the  Duke  of  Suther- 
land, whose  daughter  he  married.  In  my  day,  so 
great  was  the  seclusion  of  the  house,  that  I  have 
often  seen  of  a  morning,  from  the  bow-window 
of  the  breakfast-parlor,  wild  deer,  whose  home 
was  among  the  hills,  bounding  across  the  lawn, 
and  even  at  times  pausing  to  nibble  the  tender 
grass. 

Directly  opposite,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Clyde,  was  the  imposing  structure  of  Blantyre 
House,  which,  with  its  great  park  of  century-old 
trees,  and  wide  pastures  covering  a  long  stretch 
of  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  coming  down  to  its 
very  brink,  presented  such  an  oasis  of  refreshing 


184  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

beauty  that  it  always  attracted  and  fascinated 
the  eye  of  the  traveller  as  he  passed,  wearied 
with  an  almost  endless  scene  of  country  blasted 
and  stained  with  the  fire  and  smoke  of  human 
energy. 

From  the  woods  iu  the  rear  of  Blantyre  House 
rose  a  church  spire,  and  by  the  side  of  it  the 
manse — a  more  pretentious  structure  than  most 
Scotch  parsonages.  In  it  lived  two  of  my  fel- 
low-students. Their  father  had  been  a  humble 
rural  practitioner  of  medicine,  but  had  the  good 
fortune  to  be  called  in  an  emergency  to  attend 
a  daughter  of  the  great  house  of  Blantyre.  The 
case  was  pronounced  by  the  most  erudite  of  the 
profession  to  be  consumption,  and  of  a  desperate 
nature ;  but  the  country  doctor,  who  was  a  man 
of  plain  common -sense,  thought  otherwise,  and 
undertook  to  cure  it.  He  succeeded.  His  treat- 
ment was  simple  enough — consisting  only,  it  is 
said,  of  beefsteak  and  porter;  but  the  doctor 
was  well  rewarded,  receiving  as  his  fee  the  hand 
and  fortune  of  his  noble  patient. 

His  lordship  of  Blantyre  thinking  it  deroga- 
tory to  his  rank  and  dignity  to  have  a  humble 
practitioner  of  medicine  for  a  brother-in-law,  or 
the  doctor  himself  concluding  that  in  the  en- 
joyment of  the  transcendent  fee  he  had  earned 
there  was  nothing  beyond  to  hope  for  in  his  pro- 


OX   THE    ATLANTIC.  185 

fession,  it  was  resolved  that  the  pestle  and  mor- 
tar should  be  laid  aside,  and  he  take  to  pound- 
ing the  pulpit.  He,  accordingly,  became  a  cler- 
gyman of  the  Established  Church  of  Scotland ; 
and  receiving  from  his  noble  brother-in-law  the 
gift  of  the  living  on  the  Blantyre  estate,  and  ex- 
panding and  beautifying  the  manse  by  means  of 
his  wife's  fortune,  was  thus  possessed  of  the  lit- 
tle kirk  and  comfortable  manse,  whose  spire  and 
roof  were  to  be  seen  peeping  out  of  the  woods 
across  the  water. 

His  brother-in-law,  Lord  Blantyre,  met  with  a 
tragic  fate.  While  travelling  on  the  Continent, 
he  took  up  his  quarters  for  a  short  time  in  a 
hotel  in  Paris,  and  one  day  hearing  a  tumult  in 
the  street,  he  opened  his  window,  and,  looking 
out,  was  shot  dead.  It  was  on  the  first  of  the 
three  revolutionary  days  of  July,  1830. 

The  vacation  being  over,  and  the  winter  ses- 
sion of  the  University  beginning,  I  should,  in  the 
ordinary  course,  have  gone  to  Edinburgh;  but 
suffering  somewhat  from  ill-health — the  result  of 
my  many  irregularities  of  diet  and  regimen,  and 
other  sins  against  nature  during  the  early  days 
of  my  collegiate  life — and  being  greatly  afflicted 
with  home-sickness,  I  had  sought  and  obtained 
permission  to  go  to  New  York. 

I  sailed  from  Liverpool,  in  the   packet -ship 


186  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

Europe,  Captain  Edward  Marshall,  early  in  No- 
vember. I  began  the  voyage  in  great  glee,  for 
I  was  a  good  sailor,  and  did  not  dread  the  North 
Atlantic  Ocean,  even  in  its  tumultuous  winter 
humors ;  and  was,  moreover,  cheered  by  the  near- 
ing  though  distant  prospect  of  my  home.  For 
the  first  ten  days  everything  seemed  pleasant 
enough,  notwithstanding  the  constant  succession 
of  gales  and  storms,  which,  blowing  in  our  teeth, 
made  the  expectation  of  eating  my  plum -pud- 
ding in  New  York  almost  hopeless. 

On  the  eleventh  day  of  the  voyage  I  was  suf- 
fering from  a  raging  fever,  and  in  a  week  after 
it  was  manifest  that  I  had  an  attack  of  small- 
pox. Fortunately,  there  were  but  few  cabin- 
passengers  on  board,  although  the  steerage  was 
crowded.  Great  alarm,  however,  prevailed,  and 
it  became  a  matter  of  serious  deliberation  how 
to  dispose  of  me;  for  the  contagious  disease  I 
had  might  spread,  and,  becoming  general,  affect 
not  only  the  passengers  but  the  crew,  and  dis- 
able them  from  working  the  ship.  They  dis- 
cussed whether  it  would  be  better  to  deposit  me 
where  I  should  be  a  fellow-lodger  with  the  cow, 
in  a  compartment  of  the  long-boat,  amidships, 
made  vacant  by  the  daily  slaughter  of  sheep  and 
swine,  rapidly  disappearing  in  saddles  of  mutton 
and  legs  of  pork  at  the  cabin  table;  or  in  the 


TERRIBLE    SUFFERING.  187 

captain's  gig,  hanging  at  the  poop,  where,  as  I 
tossed,  suspended  in  the  air,  I  might  be  venti- 
lated by  every  breeze  and  gale,  and  washed  and 
purified  by  perpetual  showers  of  spray  and  fre- 
quent dashes  of  the  stormy  stern-chasers. 

As  I  grew  sicker  and  sicker,  I  felt  more  and 
more  indifferent  as  to  the  result  of  their  delib- 
erations ;  and  the  only  request  I  made,  though 
none  more  unlikely  to  be  granted  whatever  their 
promises,  was  that,  in  case  of  my  death,  my  body 
should  not  be  thrust  into  a  potato-sack,  weighted 
with  coal,  and  hurled  into  the  sea.  It  is  curious 
that,  during  the  worst  paroxysms  of  my  disease, 
I  was  less  anxious  about  the  cure  of  my  sick 
body  than  of  the  disposition  of  my  dead  carcass. 
Perhaps  it  was  that  I  despaired  of  the  one,  while 
I  fondly  hoped  that  there  was  some  chance  that 
my  wishes  might  control  the  other. 

It  was  humanely  resolved  at  last  that,  as  there 
were  no  female  passengers,  the  lady's  cabin  should 
be  cleared  of  the  freight  and  stores  with  which 
it  had  been  crammed,  and  prepared  for  my  re- 
ception. Here,  accordingly,  I  was  deposited,  and 
lay  prostrate  for  many  a  day,  with  a  disease 
which  made  me  not  only  loathsome  to  others 
but  to  myself.  My  pains  and  soreness  of  body 
were  greatly  increased  by  the  motion  of  the  ves- 
sel, every  pitch,  roll,  and  lurch  of  which  seemed 


188  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

to  rend  apart  my  flesh,  and  tear  it  out  by  piece- 
meal. 

There  was  no  surgeon  or  physician  on  board, 
and  I,  a  student  of  but  a  year,  only  knew  enough 
of  the  science  of  medicine  to  be  frightened  at 
my  condition.  There  was,  however,  an  old  gen- 
tleman among  the  cabin  passengers  who,  having 
had  the  small-pox,  felt  no  fear ;  and  being  a  deal- 
er in  drugs  and  paints,  or  something  of  the  kind, 
thought  himself,  as  the  nearest  approximation  to 
a  doctor,  entitled  to  treat  me.  He  had,  unfortu- 
nately, he  said,  but  I  think  fortunately,  brought 
with  him  no  assortment  of  the  articles  he  dealt 
in  ;  but  fastening  on  the  jalap  and  laudanum  bot- 
tles among  the  ship's  medicines,  he  dosed  me 
alternately  with  the  one  and  the  other.  It  was 
hazardous  treatment;  but  as  his  opiates  were 
strong  and  frequent,  my  sensibility  to  the  pains 
of  the  drug  with  which  he  was  drenching  me, 
and  of  the  disease,  was  much  dulled,  and,  in  spite 
of  all,  I  got  well. 

The  captain,  a  rough  man  to  look  at,  with  his 
face  deeply  seamed  and  quilted  with  the  scars  of 
the  small-pox,  and  regarded  by  his  officers  and 
sailors  as  a  severe  task-master,  whose  rude  voice 
of  command  and  angry  utterances  of  censure  I 
could  hear  even  where  I  lay,  rising  above  the 
noise  of  the  boisterous  wind  and  the  rattle  of 


A    GENTLE    SKIPPER.  189 

the  shrouds,  was  as  kind  and  gentle  to  me  as  a 
woman  during  my  whole  illness.  He  not  only 
came  to  see  me  almost  hourly  each  day,  but  re- 
mained frequently  a  long  time  by  the  side  of  my 
bunk,  giving  me  an  account  of  the  progress  of 
the  vessel,  and  the  occurrences  on  board.  On 
Sunday  he  never  failed  to  bring  with  him  his 
Bible  and  read  to  me  a  chapter,  although  no  one 
in  the  ship  ever  suspected  that  he  had  the  least 
inclination  to  pious  sentiments;  but  I  am  per- 
suaded that  he  was  a  sincere  Christian  in  faith, 
as  he  proved  himself  to  be  in  works — in  his  con- 
duct toward  me. 

As  I  lay  in  my  bunk  tossing  and  suffering,  the 
ship,  at  the  mercy  of  the  constant  winter  storms, 
kept  beating  about  the  ocean,  and,  with  perpet- 
ual head  winds,  sailing  in  every  direction  but  on 
the  right  course.  The  sailors  had  a  hard  time 
of  it;  and  after  they  had  been  for  eight  hours 
or  more  at  a  stretch  on  the  yard-arm  reefing  a 
sail,  during  a  dreadfully  cold  and  stormy  day  of 
December,  one  poor  fellow,  exhausted  with  fa- 
tigue and  benumbed  by  frost,  let  go  his  hold 
and  dropped  into  the  sea.  He  was  a  Maltese, 
and,  fresh  from  the  calm  and  milder  regions  of 
the  Mediterranean,  was  unable  to  endure  the 
boisterous  winds  and  severe  cold  of  the  North- 
ern Atlantic  in  the  winter-time. 


190  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

Thus  we  were  driven  about  with  hardly  a  sin- 
gle hour's  fair  breeze,  day  after  day,  week  after 
week,  and  even  month  after  month  ;  for,  although 
we  left  Liverpool  early  in  November,  we  did  not 
arrive  in  New  York  until  late  in  December.  We 
took  fifty-five  days  to  cross  the  Atlantic — a  pas- 
sage that  is  now  not  unfrequently  made  in  eight. 

I  felt  perfectly  well  on  my  arrival,  but  the  dis- 
ease still  showed  its  full  ugly  efflorescence  on  my 
face,  made  still  more  visible  by  the  frosty  winter 
air.  In  spite  of  the  great  studding-sails  I  had 
hoisted  by  the  advice  of  the  captain,  in  the  shape 
of  a  very  high  and  broad  standing  collar,  then  the 
fashion,  raised  to  my  ears  and  extended  beyond 
both  of  my  cheeks,  I  found  that  I  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  concealing  my  identity;  for  as  soon 
as  I  made  my  appearance  on  deck,  the  first  time 
since  my  illness,  just  as  we  were  about  to  land, 
the  throng  of  steerage  passengers,  who  had  not 
seen  me  before,  stared  with  amazement ;  and  I 
overheard  them  remarking  to  each  other,  "There's 
the  gintelman,  shure,  who  had  the  pock." 

My  satisfaction  at  arriving  was  much  dimin- 
ished by  the  surprise  with  which  each  old  friend 
looked  me  in  the  face ;  and  while  it  was  natural 
enough  that  none  was  over-eager  to  take  me  by 
the  hand,  I  felt  sad,  for  I  seemed  to  be  thus  de- 
prived of  my  due  share  of  welcome.  In  a  few 


MYSELF   AGAIN.  191 

months,  however,  I  was  myself  again,  with  hard- 
ly any  indication  left  of  the  ugly  disease,  and 
what  there  was,  my  friends  politely  assured  me, 
only  improved  my  former  appearance,  thus  sug- 
gesting an  inference  certainly  not  very  flattering 
to  my  previous  looks. 


192  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

My  First  Visit  to  Washington. — Appearance  of  the  Capital. 
— The  Old  Gadsby's. — A  Visit  from  Ogden  Hoffman. — A 
Sight  of  Daniel  Webster. — The  Hon.  Edward  Stanley. — 
A  Call  upon  Van  Buren. — The  Joke  of  the  Treasury. — 
Jesuits'  College. — Wine  for  Boys. — Alexandria. — Horse- 
back Ride  to  Mount  Vernon. — A  Deserted  Home. — Re- 
turn to  Edinburgh.  —  An  Unfortunate  Petition. — First 
Medical  Examination. 

THE  most  memorable  incident  of  my  visit  to 
the  United  States  was  a  trip  to  Washington — 
the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  had  been  there. 
Evert  A.  Duyckinck,  my  dearest  friend,  from 
his  early  youth  to  the  last  day  of  his  life,  then 
a  young  man  of  twenty  years  of  age,  like  myself, 
was  my  companion.  It  was  at  his  suggestion, 
in  fact,  that  I  made  the  journey. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1838  that  we  set  out; 
and  in  those  days,  with  no  railways  to  speed  the 
passenger  on,  and  no  Pullman  car  to  rock  him  to 
sleep  and  forgetfulness  of  time  and  worry,  the 
tedious  travelling  by  stage-couch  and  steamboat 
made  a  trip  of  several  hundred  miles  an  enter- 


LIFE    IN    WASHINGTON.  193 

pi'ise  of  some  moment.  With  our  youthful  spir- 
its and  sense  of  freedom,  however,  there  was  no 
weariness  too  heavy  for  our  endurance,  and  not 
an  hour  passed  during  our  whole  journey  that 
did  not  bring  with  it  an  addition  to  our  over- 
flowing glee  and  happiness. 

Washington  appeared  to  rne  to  have  much 
more  of  the  look  of  a  provincial  town  then ;  al- 
though even  now  it  has  by  no  means  a  very 
striking  metropolitan  aspect.  Gadsby's  Hotel, 
where  we  put  up,  of  course,  as  every  one  else  did 
— for  it  was  the  only  inn  in  the  city,  I  believe — 
was  a  great  hostelry  of  the  Southern  sort,  such 
as  used  to  be  found  in  Richmond,  and  other  large 
cities  of  the  slave  States.  It  was  built  on  the 
four  sides  of  a  large  square,  upon  which  opened 
a  range  of  interior  galleries,  three  or  four  stories 
high.  A  railing  guarded  these  from  the  open 
court-yard  on  the  one  side ;  and  on  the  other  were 
the  entrances  to  all  the  apartments  or  bedrooms. 

These  galleries  were  the  favorite  resorts  of  the 
members  of  Congress,  and  other  habitues  of  the 
hotel ;  and  in  their  frequent  moments  of  leisure 
they  were  generally  to  be  seen,  if  not  in  the  bar- 
rooms, here  poised  upon  their  chairs  with  their 
heels  upon  the  railing,  puffing  cigars  or  chewing 
their  quids,  and  alternately  sipping  mint-juleps 
and  squirting  tobacco-juice  over  the  toes  of  their 
13 


194  MY   COLLEGE    DAYS. 

boots  down  into  the  court-yard,  apparently  care- 
less on  what  sooty  head  of  the  despised  race  (the 
negro  slaves  who  were  always  thronging  in  and 
out  below)  it  might  fall. 

It  was  in  one  of  these  galleries,  I  recollect,  that 
Ogden  Hoffman,  then  member  of  Congress  from 
New  York,  to  whom  we  had  brought  a  letter  of 
introduction,  returned  our  visit.  He  was  a  jo- 
vial, hearty  man,  and,  young  as  we  were,  made 
"  hail  fellow,  well  met "  with  us  at  once,  and  soon 
had  his  feet  upon  the  rail  too,  his  cigar  in  his 
mouth,  and  his  mint-julep  at  his  side.  He  was 
very  chatty  about  Congressional  men  and  affairs ; 
but  the  only  thing  I  can  recollect  was,  to  use  his 
own  words, "  Daniel  Webster  is  facile  princeps." 

We  saw  this  great  man,  but  did  not  have  an 
opportunity  of  hearing  him  speak  in  the  Senate, 
of  which  he  was  a  member.  He  appeared  to  me 
then,  as  he  always  did  whenever  I  saw  him,  as 
an  apparition  rather  than  a  reality.  There  was 
certainly  nothing  ethereal  about  him.  He  was 
substantial  enough,  with  his  massiveness  of  struct- 
ure; his  great  height,  his  Atlantean  shoulders,  his 
ponderous  head,  with  its  lofty  forehead  overhang- 
ing those  wonderful  cavernous  eyes  of  his !  but 
withal  he  had  a  spectral  look.  He  shed  around 
such  an  air  of  impressiveness — of  awe,  I  may  say 
— as  he  stood  grand  in  the  solitary  distinction  of 


EDWARD    STANLEY.  195 

his  gigantic  form,  or  stalked  with  majestic  step 
among  the  ordinary  men  and  women  who  flut- 
tered about,  that  it  was  difficult  to  regard  him 
as  other  people  who  dwindled  in  his  presence, 
while  he  in  comparison  seemed  to  rise  to  a  su- 
perhuman height. 

We  had  also  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Ed- 
ward Stanley,  a  bright  young  member  of  Con- 
gress from  North  Carolina.  He  was  then  rejoic- 
ing in  his  triumph  over  Wise  of  Virginia  in  a 
conflict  of  personal  invective,  which  in  those  days 
was  regarded  as  creditable  to  the  spirit  of  hon- 
orable gentlemen  and  applauded,  but  which,  it  is 
hoped,  the  better  taste  of  the  present  times  con- 
demns, and  will  not  tolerate.  A  duel  was  thought 
probable,  but  by  the  intervention  of  friends  a 
hostile  meeting  was  averted.  Stanley,  however, 
was  regarded  as  a  young  hero,  who  dared  to  pre- 
sent a  bold  front  to  his  formidable  antagonist, 
and  for  having,  though  it  was  his  first  appear- 
ance in  the  Congressional  arena,  showed  a  won- 
derful readiness  in  fight,  striking  blow  for  blow, 
and  giving,  at  least,  as  much  as  he  received. 

Stanley  was  a  pleasant  companion,  and  very 
kind  and  attentive  to  us.  He  took  us  to  the 
White  House,  and  introduced  us  to  Martin  Van 
Buren,  then  President  of  the  United  States,  who, 
in  his  usual  bland  manner,  upon  my  being  pre- 


196  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

sented  to  him,  said,  "  Pray,  Mr.  Jones,  to  what 
family  of  the  Joneses  in  New  York  do  you  be- 
long?" He  might  as  well,  I  thought,  have  asked 
me  to  what  branch  of  the  human  race  I  apper- 
tained. He  had  made  a  mistake  in  my  name, 
and  I  merely  answered  by  correcting  it.  This 
is  the  only  circumstance  I  can  recall  of  an  inter- 
view which  was,  of  course,  brief  and  formal. 

Mr.  Stanley's  wife  and  a  niece  of  his — a  Miss 
Armistead,  the  daughter  of  General  Armistead — 
were  with  him  in  Washington,  and  we  all  paid  a 
visit  together  to  the  Treasury,  to  behold  its  won- 
ders. We  were  shown  a  diamond-mounted  gold 
snuffbox,  among  other  handsome  and  valuable 
gifts  which  had  been  presented  by  foreign  po- 
tentates to  American  officials,  who  are  allowed 
to  take  but  not  to  keep  presents.  They,  accord- 
ingly, deliver  them  up  to  the  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury,  who  stores  them  away  in  his  depart- 
ment. When  it  came  to  Miss  Armistead's  turn 
to  inspect  the  box,  the  official  in  charge,  a  gallant 
old  gray-haired  gentleman,  after  showing  the  dia- 
monds on  the  outside,  opened  and  displayed  the 
glistening  interior  of  gold,  saying  to  her, "  You 
will  see  there  the  two  most  magnificent  brilliants, 
look !"  Miss  Armistead  was  a  very  handsome 
dark  brunette,  and  her  pair  of  beautiful,  spark- 
ling black  eyes  deserved  the  compliment ;  and  I 


THE   JESUITS'    COLLEGE.  197 

must  say  that  I  felt  my  gallantry  wounded  when 
her  uncle,  Mr.  Stanley,  blurted  out  to  us  as  we 
left, "That  old  fool  always  says  the  same  thing 
whenever  he  shows  that  box  to  a  lady,  be  she 
young  or  old,  ugly  or  handsome !"  I  wonder  if 
it  is  still  the  standing  joke  of  the  Treasury,  as 
it  was  half  a  century  ago  ! 

We  made  a  visit  to  the  Jesuits'  College  at 
Georgetown.  It  was  during  the  vacation,  and 
we  found  no  one  but  a  jolly  priest  in  charge, 
who  took  us  all  about,  showing  us  the  refectory, 
the  kitchen,  the  dormitories,  the  library,  with  its 
illuminated  missals  and  foreign -looking  books 
bound  in  vellum,  and  the  grounds.  After  in- 
specting the  terraces,  the  conservatories,  and  flow- 
er-beds, we  came  to  a  large  trellis  covered  with 
vines,  then  bursting  all  over  into  buds,  and  giving 
promise  of  a  plentiful  harvest  of  fruit.  "  What 
do  you  do  with  the  grapes?"  one  of  us  asked. 
"  Why,  we  make  wine  of  them,"  he  said ;  " but" 
— and  after  a  pause,  and  a  very  significant  twinge 
of  the  mouth,  added, "  we  give  it  to  the  boys !" 
It  was  evident  that  his  own  rubicund  visage  and 
jolly  rotundity  of  person  had  ripened  under  a 
different  vintage. 

We  sailed  down  the  Potomac  to  Alexandria, 
and,  mounting  a  pair  of  nags  from  the  first  liv- 
ery-stable, scampered  off  with  loose  rein  to  Mount 


198  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

Vernon.  It  was  an  early  spring  day,  with  a  clear, 
exhilarating  atmosphere,  neither  too  warm  nor 
cold;  and  our  horses,  as  well  as  our  ourselves, 
stirred  to  briskness  and  animation  by  the  cheer- 
ing influences  of  the  season,  we  moved  rapidly 
and  joyously  on.  The  dogwood  was  everywhere 
in  full  bloom  and  odor,  the  fresh  tobacco-plants 
were  sprouting,  and  the  grass  of  the  rolling  hills 
and  broken  banks  of  the  river  refreshed  the  eye 
with  its  tender  green. 

We  were  soon  at  Mount  Vernon,  wandering 
about  its  deserted  grounds,  and  inspecting  with 
curious  but  not  irreverent  eyes  the  decaying  old 
house  and  the  neglected  burial-place  of  Wash- 
ington. At  that  time  the  whole  plantation  seem- 
ed abandoned — the  buildings  a  ruin,  and  the  fields 
a  waste.  We  could  see  no  human  being  but  one 
decrepit  old  negro,  who  started  suddenly  out 
from  his  lair  at  the  mouth  of  the  tomb,  where 
he  had  been  lying  in  wait  to  pounce  upon  some 
chance  travellers  like  ourselves,  for  whose  shil- 
lings he  had  a  lively  scent. 

Soon  after  this  visit  to  Washington,  on  my  re- 
turn to  New  York  I  sailed  for  Europe,  and  on 
reaching  Edinburgh  resumed  my  studies  at  the 
University.  I  had  lost  a  year,  and  I  was  induced 
to  make  it  up  in  a  way  that  I  afterward  greatly 
regretted.  I  petitioned  the  Senatus  Academicus, 


CONDENSED    STUDY.  199 

as  the  corporate  body  of  professors  was  called, 
to  concede  to  me  one  out  of  the  four  years  of 
study  required  for  a  degree,  on  the  ground  of 
an  attendance  on  a  previous  course  of  lectures 
at  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

My  petition  was  granted,  unfortunately  for 
me,  I  think,  for  I  was  thus  obliged  to  crowd  into 
three  years  all  the  courses  of  lectures,  for  which 
four,  the  required  number,  are  hardly  adequate. 
I,  therefore,  was  occupied  almost  every  hour  of 
the  day  in  attending  lectures,  and  at  the  same 
time  had  to  prepare  for  the  first  medical  exami- 
nation, to  take  place  at  the  end  of  the  session.  I 
naturally  devoted  myself  almost  exclusively  to 
those  subjects  upon  which  I  was  to  be  exam- 
ined, and  gave  but  little  heed  to  the  others,  be- 
yond such  attendance  at  the  lectures  on  them  as 
was  necessary  to  comply  with  the  regulations  of 
the  University.  I  passed  the  examination,  and 
very  creditably,  I  believe,  at  the  end  of  the  win- 
ter session,  on  the  following  subjects  :  Anatomy, 
Physiology,  Chemistry,  Materia  Medica,  Botany, 
and  Natural  History. 


200  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Last  Academic  Year. — Disability  of  Professors. — Sir 
Charles  Bell. — Supplementary  Teachers. — Disgraceful  In- 
efficiency.— Infirmary. — Heroic  Practice. — High-pressure. 
— Breaking  Down. — The  Last  Examination. — Dr.  (Sir 
James  Y.)  Simpson. — Dr.  Sawneyson's  Testimonials. — A 
Severe  Calling  to  Account. — Defence  of  Thesis. — Capping. 
—Exit. 

AFTER  the  usual  three  months  of  holiday,  I 
was  reduced  to  my  last  academic  year  (1839-'40) 
at  the  University,  to  consist  of  two  sessions,  the 
summer  and  winter.  In  nine  months,  which  was 
all  the  time  left  to  me,  I  undertook  to  do  won- 
ders— not  only  to  attend  six  courses  of  lectures 
—  Practice  of  Medicine,  Pathology,  Midwifery, 
Surgery,  Clinical  Surgery,  and  Medical  Jurispru- 
dence— but  the  in-door  practice  of  the  hospital, 
and  out-door  practice  of  the  dispensary  as  well. 

I  might  have  dispensed,  as  far  as  any  good 
they  did  me,  with  most  of  the  lectures ;  for,  ex- 
cepting the  excellent  course  of  Clinical  Surgery 
by  the  great  surgeon,  Syme,  there  was  not  a  sin- 
gle one  that  was  efficiently  given.  Home,  the 


INEFFICIENT   PKOFESSOES.  201 

p.rofessor  of  the  Practice  of  Medicine,  was  so  en- 
feebled by  age  and  infirmity  that,  although  he 
continued  daily  to  mumble  something  from  a 
manuscript  before  him,  it  was  so  inarticulate  and 
inaudible  that  no  one  could  discover  what  it  was. 

Thompson,  the  professor  of  Pathology,  the  au- 
thor of  the  standard  work  on  Inflammation,  and 
one  of  the  original  founders,  with  Sydney  Smith, 
Jeffrey,  and  Brougham,  of  the  Edinburgh  He- 
view,  and  among  its  earliest  and  ablest  contribu- 
tors, had  been  long  prostrate  on  his  bed  with 
paralysis.  His  son — not  Allen  Thompson,  now 
the  Glasgow  professor,  who  might  have  well  rep- 
resented his  father,  but  the  eldest,  a  very  differ- 
ent man — was  acting  as  his  substitute,  and  had 
no  qualifications  whatsoever  for  the  position. 

Hamilton,  the  professor  of  Midwifery,  was  also 
a  hopeless  invalid ;  and  an  old  pupil  of  his  was 
appointed  to  read  his  manuscript  lectures,  which 
he  did  in  a  perfunctory  way,  as  if  he  regarded 
it  a  bore  to  himself,  as  certainly  it  was  to  those 
who  were  forced  to  listen  to  him. 

Sir  Charles  Bell,  who  had  been  lately  appoint- 
ed the  successor  of  Liston,  who  had  gone  to 
London,  where  he  became  the  greatest  surgeon 
of  the  metropolis,  was,  indeed,  a  very  eminent 
man,  but  an  exceedingly  inefficient  lecturer.  He 
had  reached  that  age  when,  without  energy  to 


202  MY   COLLEGE   DAYS. 

struggle  and  compete  with  the  present,  we  con- 
sole ourselves  with  the  triumphs  of  the  past.  It 
was  interesting  to  listen  to  him  as  he  dilated 
upon  his  great  discovery  of  the  functions  of  the 
spinal  cord  and  nerves,  but  he  became  occasion- 
ally very  tedious  as  he  repeated  over  and  over 
again  the  details  of  his  ingenious  experiments,  and 
the  steps  of  his  convincing  deductions ;  besides, 
it  was  not  surgery.  He,  moreover,  was  quite  in- 
firm, and  lectured  in  a  languid  manner  approach- 
ing to  indifference,  seeming  as  glad  as  we  were 
when  the  hour  of  the  lesson  was  over. 

The  professor  of  Medical  Jurisprudence  had 
put  what  he  knew  of  his  subject  in  a  little  book, 
which  was  in  the  hands  of  us  all ;  and  as  he  was 
a  dull  fellow,  no  one  cared  or  needed  to  listen  to 
his  tedious  repetitions  of  himself. 

It  was  disgraceful  to  the  University  that  its 
teaching  should  have  been  allowed  to  remain  in 
such  an  inefficient  state.  There  were  twelve  med- 
ical professors  in  all,  receiving  large  incomes  from 
their  classes,  while  only  two  or  three  out  of  the 
whole  number  could  be  justly  said  to  lecture  in 
a  superior  and  thoroughly  effective  manner.  All 
the  rest  were  greatly  surpassed  by  the  private 
teachers,  whose  services,  in  fact,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  call  into  requisition  to  supplement  the 
University  courses  and  supply  their  defects,  in 


ATTENDANCE    IN   THE    SURGICAL  WARDS.    203 

consequence  of  the  superannuation,"  sickness,  and 
other  causes  of  the  disability  of  the  regular  pro- 
fessors. The  students  were  thus  forced  to  pay 
double,  while  they  received  but  a  single  benefit, 
and  more  for  what  they  did  not  get  than  for 
what  they  did.  The  teachers  outside  always 
charged  a  great  deal  less  for  their  good  lectures 
than  we  were  obliged  to  give  the  professors  in- 
side of  the  University  for  their  bad  ones.  The 
proper  remedy  for  such  a  condition  of  things  is 
to  place  all  teachers  properly  licensed,  whether 
collegiate  or  not,  on  the  same  footing ;  and  as 
each  would  thus  depend  on  his  merits  for  com- 
pensation, only  the  capable  and  efficient  would 
be  found  in  the  chair  of  professor  or  lecturer; 
for  none  is  likely  to  be  fool  enough  gratuitously 
to  hold  forth,  day  after  day  and  year  after  year, 
to  empty  benches,  as  a  University  dullard  does, 
and  is  so  well  paid  for  doing. 

I  was  a  daily  attendant  at  the  Infirmary,  wit- 
nessing the  operations  performed  by  the  skil- 
ful hands  of  Syme  and  Ferguson,  afterward  Sir 
James  Ferguson,  the  famous  surgeon  of  London. 
I  followed  them  also  in  their  rounds  in  the  surgi- 
cal wards,  as  I  also  did  the  various  physicians  in 
succession — Drs.  Alison,  Christison,  and  Craigie 
— in  the  medical  services. 

Those   were  the  heroic  days  of  the  practice 


204  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

of  medicine— the  days  of  puking,  drenching,  and 
bleeding.  In  every  case  of  fever,  whatever  might 
be  its  nature,  the  preliminary  measure  was  a 
vomit  of  a  kind  and  of  a  strength  that  was  al- 
most capable  of  making,  contrary  to  nature,  a 
horse  sick.  Two  grains  of  tartar-emetic  and  a 
drachm  of  ipecacuanha  were  always  given  to 
each  poor  patient  as  soon  as  seen,  whose  flushed 
face,  heated  surface  of  body,  and  quickened  pulse 
indicated  the  possibility  of  any  disease  whatever 
which  could  come  within  that  comprehensive 
term,  fever.  It  might  turn  out  to  be  merely  a 
disordered  stomach,  which  a  day  of  abstinence 
and  repose  might  restore  to  its  healthy  condition ; 
or  it  might  be  an  eruptive  affection,  a  case  of 
measles  or  small-pox,  which  would  follow  a  course 
as  regular  and  certain  as  the  days  of  the  week; 
or  it  might  be  the  malignant  typhus,  where  the 
virulent  poison,  corrupting  the  blood  and  pros- 
trating the  strength,  could  only  be  eliminated 
by  time  and  the  power  of  endurance.  It  matter- 
ed not  what  disease  was  vaguely  foreboded,  the 
close  was  certain ;  the  tartar-emetic  and  ipecacu- 
anha were  always  given.  "  The  fever,"  that  nev- 
er was  or  could  be  arrested  in  its  natural  prog- 
ress, "  must  be  broken,"  exclaimed  all  the  doc- 
tors, as  they  poured  down  their  nauseous  mixt- 
ures into  the  unwilling  stomachs  of  their  vie- 


HEROIC    MEDICINE.  205 

tims,  always  sickening  them,  and  reducing  a 
strength  already  prostrated  by  the  disease,  and 
thus  lessening  the  chances  of  a  recovery  wholly 
dependent  upon  the  power  of  the  organization 
to  endure  the  poison,  and  finally,  by  outlasting 
the  malignant  effects,  to  recover  its  original  con- 
dition of  health. 

With  the  same  boasted  heroism  of  treatment, 
as  it  was  then  termed — audacious  defiance  of  nat- 
ure we  should  now  call  it — the  doctors  treated 
every  supposed  case  of  inflammation.  Venesec- 
tio  ad  deliquium — all  the  orders  in  the  Infirma- 
ry were  given  in  Latin — "  bleeding  to  fainting," 
was  heard  at  every  bedside.  This  was  followed 
by  a  prescription  of  tartar-emetic,  to  be  taken 
every  hour  or  so,  and  continued  until  the  patient 
became  well,  as  he  may  have  done  sometimes,  for 
the  resistance  of  nature  is  marvellously  great,  or 
until — but  ars  longa,vita  brevis.  There  was  al- 
ways, supplementary  to  this  medical  heroism  of 
bleeding  to  fainting  and  sickening  to  exhaustion, 
a  frequent  purging  with  large  doses  of  calomel 
and  jalap,  to  complete  the  test  of  human  endur- 
ance. The  stimulating  treatment  in  typhus  was 
carried  out  to  an  extent  that  Avould  seem  incred- 
ible to  the  practitioner  of  the  present  day.  An 
old  disciple  of  the  Brownonian  School,  one  of  the 
most  famous  doctors  of  his  time  in  Edinburgh, 


206  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

was  known  to  give  a  one  quart  bottle  of  brandy 
and  two  quart  bottles  of  full-bodied  claret  to  a 
single  patient  in  the  course  of  four-and-twenty 
hours ! 

I  learned  to  flesh,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  lancet 
in  those  heroic  days,  and  to  wage  war  against 
nature  with  it,  and  all  the  other  deadly  weapons 
of  ancient  art;  but  I  rejoice  to  know  that  I 
have  survived  to  see  these  unheroic  times,  which, 
though  too  commonplace  in  many  respects  as 
they  may  be,  have  certainly  the  advantage  of 
being  more  sensible  and  less  dangerous. 

With  all  the  many  lectures,  and  the  attend- 
ance upon  the  hospitals,  and  out-door  and  in-door 
practice  of  the  dispensaries  crowded  into  one 
short  academic  year,  to  which  was  added  the 
special  preparation  requiring  a  great  deal  of 
study  of  numerous  text-books  for  the  prospec- 
tive examination  for  my  degree,  which  naturally 
tormented  me  with  anxieties  and  dismal  forebod- 
ings of  possible  failure,  I  became  so  oppressed 
with  work  and  worried  with  care  that  my  health 
broke  down  under  the  pressure.  I  now  felt  to 
the  full  the  imprudence  of  my  proceeding  in  hav- 
ing shortened  the  regular  course  of  study,  and, 
instead  of  the  one  year  less,  which  had  been  con- 
ceded in  accordance  with  my  injudicious  peti- 
tion, I  would  have  been  glad  to  have  many  years 


CHAMBER    OF    HORKOKS.  207 

more,  so  overwhelming  seemed  the  burden  I  had 
to  bear.  I  thought,  at  times,  of  giving  up  the 
whole  effort  in  despair.  I  became  nervous  and 
hypochondriacal,  and  suffered  a  prostration  of 
mind  and  body  which,  at  intervals,  has  continued 
to  afflict  me,  more  or  less,  throughout  the  rest  of 
my  life  to  this  day — a  prolonged  misery  which 
I  attribute  to  the  absurd  attempt  at  doing  in  a 
few  months  what  could  only  have  been  properly 
done  in  as  many  years. 

I,  however,  persisted,  and  offered  myself  for 
the  examination,  but  with  fear  and  trembling. 
On  entering  the  chamber  of  horrors — the  small 
commonplace  room,  the  plain  table  covered  with 
green  baize  holding  a  business -looking  blank- 
book,  some  scattered  sheets  of  white  paper,  and 
pens  and  ink — the  two  or  three  familiar  profess- 
ors, smiling  and  chatting  at  their  ease,  at  one 
end,  while  at  the  other  stood  an  empty  horse- 
hair chair,  seemed,  by  their  very  simplicity  and 
habitualness,  a  mockery  of  my  woe,  and  height- 
ened my  alarms.  I  could  have  better  endured 
a  more  ceremonious  reception,  a  statelier  apart- 
ment, a  more  solemn  conclave.  Greater  show  of 
official  form  and  severity  would  have  stiffened 
my  relaxed  nerves  to  the  firmness  of  resistance, 
and  compelled  self-command.  Ceremony,  more- 
over, would  have  been  a  diversion,  drawing  to 


•208  MY    COLLEGE    DAYS. 

itself  much  that  in  this  cynical  simplicity  of  my 
examination  was  concentrated  upon  me.  Every- 
thing indicated  business,  and  nothing  but  busi- 
ness, and  a  most  dreadful  business. 

The  first  person  I  confronted  was  Dr.  Simp- 
son, who  had  just  been  elected  to  the  Professor- 
ship of  Midwifery,  on  the  death  of  Dr.  Hamilton. 
He  arose  and  met  me  as  I  entei'ed  the  door,  and 
shook  hands  in  the  most  friendly  way.  I  thought 
it  but  polite,  in  return  for  his  civil  reception,  to 
be  civil  too,  so  I  congratulated  him  upon  his  ap- 
pointment. "And  you,  sir,"  he  answered,  with  a 
curl  of  his  lip, (C  did  everything  in  your  power  to 
prevent  it."  I  knew  at  once  what  he  referred  to, 
and  the  knowledge  was  not  calculated  to  revive 
my  failing  courage. 

During  the  very  active  and  excited  canvass 
for  the  election  of  a  Professor  of  Midwifery,  Dr. 
Simpson  had  printed  a  large  volume  of  Testi- 
monials, and  distributed  it  everywhere.  This 
publication  was  not  in  the  best  taste,  and,  lend- 
ing itself  obviously  to  burlesque,  I  had  traves- 
tied it  under  the  title  of  "  Dr.  Sawneyson's  Testi- 
monials." The  squib  was  hawked  about  in  front 
of  the  college,  read  by  all  the  Tory  professors, 
who  smiled  approvingly  upon  the  reputed  au- 
thor, thrown  into  every  reading-room,  and  sent 
to  all  the  newspapers;  and  a  popular  medical 


SIE   JAMES    Y.  SIMPSON.  209 

journal  in  London  reprinted  it  in  full  in  its  col- 
umns. It  was  a  great  success,  owing  to  the  time- 
liness of  its  production,  and  riot  to  any  merit  it 
possessed.  Dr.  Simpson,  who  was  a  brother  of  a 
Radical  baker  of  Edinburgh,  an  influential  mem- 
ber of  the  Town  Council,  was  opposed  by  most 
of  the  professors,  who  were  Tories,  and  of  great 
aristocratical  pretensions.  The  students  follow- 
ing in  their  wake  were  antagonistic  too,  and  I 
also;  though,  as  a  foreigner,  I  ought  to  have 
expressed  no  political  sympathy,  and  if  I  did, 
it  might  have  been  expected  that,  being  a  Re- 
publican, I  should  not  be  ranged  on  the  Tory 
side.  Simpson,  however,  was  elected,  principal- 
ly through  the  influence  of  his  Radical  brother 
of  the  Common  Council,  with  which  the  choice 
rested.  He  took  ample  revenge  in  due  course  of 
time  upon  all  the  Tory  professors,  and  his  other 
virulent  antagonists,  by  becoming  one  of  the 
greatest  medical  teachers  in  the  University,  and 
most  eminent  accoucheurs  and  physicians  in  the 
world. 

His  speech  to  me  was  certainly  not  very  mag- 
nanimous, and  his  conduct  subsequently  still  less 
so,  if,  as  I  suspected,  he  made  my  examination 
more  severe  and  difficult  than  it  otherwise  would 
have  been.  I  may,  however,  have  done  him  in- 
justice by  my  suspicion.  At  any  rate,  he  was 
14 


210  MY  COL^PGE  DAYS. 

entitled  to  ask  me  what  he  pleased,  provided  it 
was  pertinent  to  the  subject  upon  which  I  was 
to  pass  an  examination,  and  it  was  ray  duty  to 
answer  it.  I  passed,  however,  by  hook  or  by 
crook,  the  Midwifery  as  well  as  the  other  exami- 
nations. 

The  next  step  toward  obtaining  the  degree 
was  to  defend  my  thesis;  an  operation  which 
was  soon  and  easily  performed,  for  it  consisted  of 
little  more  than  a  polite  interchange  of  courtesies 
between  Dr.  Alison,  my  challenger  on  the  occa- 
sion, and  myself.  He  shook  hands  with  me,  and 
expressed  the  hope  that  I  was  well,  and  I  return- 
ed the  compliment,  shaking  him  by  the  hand,  and 
expressing  the  hope  that  he  was  well.  He  may 
have  added  a  word  or  two  in  regard  to  my  the- 
sis, which  treated  of  a  subject  he  was  fond,  in  his 
lectures,  of  descanting  upon — "  The  Influence  of 
Mind  on  Body." 

I  was  now  ready  for  the  last  scene  of  all,  the 
"  capping,"  as  it  is  termed.  I,  accordingly,  on 
the  day  appointed,  August  1st,  1840,  in  order  to 
undergo  the  operation,  passed  in  a  long  line  of 
my  fellow-graduates,  one  hundred  and  eleven  in 
number,  in  front  of  the  whole  body  of  the  Fac- 
ulty, seated  on  a  dais  or  platform,  and  in  face  of 
a  large  number  of  miscellaneous  spectators,  who 
filled  the  great  hall  of  the  University.  Each  of 


GRADUATED.  211 

us  stopped,  first  before  one  of  the  professors,  to 
sign  the  Hippocratic  oath,  and  then  before  the 
JPrimaHvtf  or  Principal  of  the  University,  sit- 
ting on  a  raised  seat  in  the  centre,  who,  lifting 
the  cap,  which  was  made  of  pasteboard  covered 
with  black  stuff  of  some  kind,  and  resembled  a 
gigantic  extinguisher  in  form,  put  and  held  it  on 
the  head  of  each,  while  he  went  through  a  short 
Latin  formula,  pronouncing  the  candidate  a  doc- 
tor, with  all  the  rights  and  privileges  pertaining 
thereto.  Having  been  thus  capped,  I  passed  on, 
and,  receiving  my  diploma,  disappeared  from  the 
stage. 


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